I'm The One Who Loves You Lately
by xXDark.Lord.MeloniousXx
Summary: Life is unchanging and common in South Park, Colorado, seemingly, but something is slowly bubbling in the backroud of Stan's mind, slowly twisting him into a person that may be the real him he'd been looking for all along. STYLE COUPLING R&R please
1. You Packed Your Last 2 Bags, The Taxi's

**Hey! Here's my first South Park fanfic; second yaoi coupling, but I recently became so obsessed with this couple that I must write something for them! So here's chapter 1 and hope you guys enjoy it so far! **

"Well, I know whah Ms. Garrison hates you, Kahl. It's simple, your ma'am is a bitch."

"Shut up, fat ass! Stop calling my mom a bitch."

Stan Marsh stood by the bus stop silently next to his rather orange friend, Kenny McCormick while is two other friends stood arguing. One of them, he didn't really refer to as a friend, as he was stereotypical and seemingly a sociopath; his name was Eric Cartman. The other one, though, who wore a green ushanka and orange jacket was very close to Stan. Someone whom since the third grade Stan referred to as his "Super Best Friend".

That boy's name was Kyle Broflovski. Stan smirked as he saw his infuriated friend clench his fists as the heavier boy, Cartman, teased him with a song he had long ago created, illustrating to other children "Kyle's Mom is a Bitch"

Stan looked to Kenny and questioned, "You do the math homework?"

The boys were in eighth grade now, and as they progressed through their middle school career Stanley Marsh had seemed more and more undedicated to complete any work given to him outside of school. Kenny peaked his ice blue eyes through the few stray hairs that lay feathered across his forehead before replying beneath his hood,

"nohmeyenubertulehurd"

"Why?" Stan inquired

"umbrobleehundatiebydehrendofduhwreck"

"Well, even if you are probably gonna die by the end of the week, you should get all your work done."

"rauhbrewnoo"

Stan sighed and told Kenny, "Ugh, then who will give it to me?"

Kenny shrugged and sighed out a fog of cold breath. Stan turned around to face his orange and green friend who's hands were covering his ears, his face red with fury as the other boy sang a catchy tune of, "Oh, Kahl's ma'am's a bitch, she's a big, fat bitch, she's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world!"

Before Kyle could finish his retort of, "Shut the fuck up, fat-ass!" Stan tapped his shoulder.

Kyle turned to face Stan, releasing his hands from over his ears and with a tilted head, soft expression and calmed nerves asking, "Yeah, Stan?"

Stan smiled; that was one of the greatest reasons he was so close to Kyle. He was certainly the most kind-hearted of the group, the most rational and sincere. It made him much more open for attack from their heartless acquaintance, Cartman, but Kyle never took it out on anyone other than the fat boy. Stan grouped his hand back and inquired, "Uhm…Kyle…could I…copy the math homework at lunch?"

Stan nearly cringed at the death-stare Kyle sent him; the boy sighed, though and told Stan simply, "Fine, but don't make this anything regular. You know I don't like it when you cheat off me."

Stan grinned and feeling much more light-hearted proclaimed, "It's not cheating! It's like…you're helping me study! Homework's just like notes that you take home; you're just helping me out by taking my notes for me! Like that time when I broke my arm and you took all my notes for me last year; 'member?"

Kyle begrudgingly agreed and then seemed to remember the Nazi-wanna-be behind him and turned around snarling to the singing boy, "No one's listening, fat-ass!!"

Before Kyle had a moment to gloat about Cartman's ending of lyrical technique his stomach growled so loudly it was heard by all four boys over the soft roar of the bus pulling up to the stop. Kenny immediately boarded without looking back at Kyle's embarrassed face and Cartman's snickering and swoon of, "What, Jew-boy? Don't you have an Kosher Matza-shit-ball soup in that big Jew-hat of yours?"

Kyle fumed as he loaded onto the bus behind Cartman, followed by Stan as he snarled, "Matza ball soup is already Kosher you fuckin' fat ass tard, shut the fuck up."

Stan just smiled and shook his head as he watched Kyle's corduroys', dark green hems work up the bus's stairs without a worry in the world. He still did not know what was to come, that day, and how it would change his life.


	2. Round The Bend, You Used to Laugh Out

Stan sat next to Kyle on the bus; Kyle hated the bus ride to school. He loved car rides; loved long car rides, but this ride was never relaxing. The bus ride to school included Stan complaining on and on about Wendy Testaburger, a long past girlfriend that he never got over, Cartman's constant reminder of hatred and ridicule towards Kyle and his religion. Not to mention the looming aggravation that had sunken so deep into Kyle; the fact that Ms. Garrison had moved and started working at the middle school.

Kyle most disliked Ms. Garrison. She was possibly the most irritating, contradicting, clueless human being Kyle ever encountered. The world had crushed all around him when he received his class schedule that late summer and learned that he would be seeing her first period every morning for the next ten months. Kyle sighed as he stared out the window with a mundane glaze over his eyes. Stan leaned over a little and asked in nearly a whisper,

"Hey…you're hungry, right?"

Kyle blushed; not only Ms. Garrison and Cartman did Kyle dislike, but he also held a nauseating hatred for the sound of grumbling stomachs. His embarrassment showed through the red that rose into his cheeks as he glared out the window and replied, "Yeah."

Stan smirked and pulled his backpack onto his lap. He went digging through his pockets until he pulled out a bag of Pop-tarts and offered them to Kyle. Stan smiled victoriously as he had produced a smile from his friend; Kyle's timid happiness melted into a somewhat concerned expression as he inquired, "Isn't that your breakfast?"

Stan smirked; so like Kyle, to not care how badly his stomach would ache later if only to make sure Stan was fed. Stan chuckled and pushed his hand more out into Kyle's air before telling his friend simply, "Don't worry, Kyle. I'm perfectly fine; I stole my dad's toast this morning. You should have these, I'm giving them to you."

Kyle was about to reach out and take them, but froze half way and interrogated further, "Are these…Kosher?"

Stan shook his head with a laugh and shoved the snack into Kyle's chest, and scolded, "What? You've never had Pop-tarts, Kye?"

Kyle flustered; it wasn't often that Stan used the nickname "Kye" with him. Stan frequently used it when taunting Kyle, teasing or joking around. Kyle shook his head negatively and told Stan, "Sorry, no. My mom never lets me have stuff like this; she's always yelling at me about my sugar intake."

Stan's face sank back into seriousness as he agreed, "Yeah, well…if she tells you not to have them, then don't over-do it, kay?"

Stan didn't really know what he was saying. Could a diabetic over do it? He quickly imagined Kyle kicking the bucket of some stupid pop-tarts and he nearly burst out laughing. He knew he probably didn't make any sense in what he had just said, but Kyle sympathized with Stan's unenlightenment and simply nodded, replying shortly, "Yeah, okay."

The bus came to another stop, and who would board but Ms. Wendy Testaburger. She walked by Stan without a second glance, but Stan's gaze lingered so longingly on her that his entire head twisted as she walked by him to the back of the bus. Stan sighed; oh had he had loved Wendy. She was graceful, popular, beautiful, smart and everything about her made Stan regurgitate. She was simply perfect.

Kyle took a small bite of the pop-tart, then looked to his right where Stan sat, watching Ms. Testaburger with solemn infatuation. Kyle did not exactly pity Stan anymore. After Stan went Emo and sat in his room, dressed darkly with stupid make-up and flooded himself with self-pity, leaving behind his best friend…Kyle didn't know how he was supposed to feel. He was very territorial when it came to Stan.

Stan was his "Super Best Friend", after all. Stan was supposed to be there for Kyle, no matter what time of day, of what week or what year. It should never matter; he just never wanted Stan too far from him. He lifted himself, stretching his neck over to stare at the raven-haired, purple-dressed fairy princess that had ensnared Stan in her cootie-infested web of lies. He glared to the girl, although she never turned to see him, but continued to gossip with Ms. Bebe Stevens and all of the other girls surrounding her.

Kyle wanted to break down Wendy Testaburger so badly; there was a small core within Kyle Broflovski that continued to burn, only fueled by the hatred he had for the few things he disliked and in there, there was a small section reserved especially for Ms. Testaburger. A small little fraction of that core burned solely on the loathing he had for Wendy and all the torture she put his best friend through.

When he looked to Wendy a reoccurring thought would always come to mind, and he would wish he were a cartoon protagonist. A cartoon hero; like Danny Phantom, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent and Peter Parker. He wished he could be someone like them, who walked through the streets of their cities like normal human beings, but at any moment could save everyone. Someone who could make a difference, always got the girl in the end and delivered justice unto those who deserved it.

And if life were a cartoon, Wendy Testaburger would be the dark villain that sat high in her dark, spooky castle of popularity and hormonal dramatics. Kyle snapped back into reality when he heard Stan sigh heavily. Kyle sighed too, before he softly placed his hand on Stan's shoulder. The ebony-haired boy turned to face his friend the moment he felt the spot of warmth curling over his collar-bone. He was sad when he saw Kyle's concerned expression.

He didn't really know why it saddened him to see Kyle worrying, but it did. He hated being the cause of any emotional turmoil when it came to Kyle. He only wanted Kyle to remember friendship and reliance when he thought of Stan. Stan didn't want to mean anything else; only compassion and care; he never wanted to be the promise of confusion, annoyance or aggravation. He never wanted that.

He quickly turned himself entirely around and said softly as Kyle's hand slid away from him,

"Sorry, Kyle."

Kyle smiled gently and altered his position slightly before replying, "Don't worry about it, dude. I just want you to be okay again."

At this statement, for reasons Stan could not define, his face heated with rushed blood. Why did he blush? It was no secret that he was still not over Wendy Testaburger; he knew he wasn't embarrassed. Well, when it came to Kyle Broflovski, Stan couldn't be embarrassed. He knew Kyle was the only kid in South Park; no, he was the only person in South Park, or maybe even the entire world that understood Stan.

Stan knew Kyle to be the only human being who never needed explanations, never needed proof and never needed excuses from Stan. Stan never had to lie to Kyle, he never had to give Kyle a "why" or "how"; Kyle always understood. He was always so easy to come to, always so easy to be open with and honest with. Maybe that's why Stan blushed; that simply watching Stan's head turn, he knew something was wrecked between his ribs.

Stan somewhat nervously stammered, "N-no, it's fine. I'm fine, Kyle…kind of."

Kyle's emerald eyes sank into a solemn shade as he slipped a little closer to Stan and told him,

"In all honesty, Stan…she didn't deserve you."

Again, a rush of blood to Stan's face sent him off course. He couldn't stand looking Kyle in the eyes for some reason; he didn't know why. It made him nervous and anxious, so he looked away as he told Kyle, "…thanks, Kyle."

Kyle nodded negatively as the bus came to a stop at the school; Stan finally looked into Kyle's eyes again as he heard his friend murmur, "No…don't thank me for telling you that. It's not a compliment. I want you to know that…you're way, way too good for her, dude. So don't think about it anymore."

Before Stan could stutter a response, Cartman walked by, noting their serious, meaningful expressions and Stan's fluster. The fat boy then snorted, "I'm sure you fags wanna ass-ram all morning, but we're at school."

Kyle immediately glared to Cartman; reaching somewhat over Stan with a clenched fist waving as he snarled, "Shut the fuck up, fat-ass; unlike you, we have souls and I was just trying to help Stan out."

"Uhm, no, Kahl. You don't have a soul, cause you're a Ginger. Everyone knows Gingers don't have souls, Kahl." Cartman retorted

Stan couldn't really understand the rest of what was said; only heard growled insults and colorful language. He was too distracted with the proximity of Kyle; Stan's face was just brushing against Kyle's chest. Although it was covered in an orange jacket with a green collar, he could feel Kyle's body heat leaking through and warming against him. He was turning red again…

"GET THE HELL OFF THE BUS, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" screamed Tweak as he ran off the bus flailing his arms and shrieking.

Tweak had grown out of a lot of his horrific screaming tantrums; he even gave up coffee to calm his nerves. It didn't do a whole lot, though. The kids had finally gotten over how annoying it was and learned to ignore it. Cartman turned his back to Stan and Kyle before muttering something to the nature of, "Goddamn gay Jew."

Before Kyle could curse more at Cartman, though, Stan rose his hand against Kyle's chest gingerly. Kyle seemed surprised that Stan was there at all; as if he had forgotten he was stretching over him. Kyle backed away and flustered as he nervously scratched the back of his neck, smiling and telling him, "Sorry; forgot I was over you; you're soft, I just…didn't realize…"

Stan chuckled nervously and smiled back, replying, "Oh…it's okay. Don't worry…let's…let's just go, then…"

"Yeah."


	3. Loud, But You Can't Remember When

Class was as uninteresting and mundane as ever; the one thing that kept Stan from faking nausea and winning a ride home was the promise of hanging out with Kyle at his house after school. Stan was letting his chin slump in his palm lazily as he doodled ninjas battling on his loose-leaf when he heard his classroom door swing open. Kenny stood there; his hood down as he announced with fear,

"Stan! Come quick! He's asking for you!"

Stan's Global History class was staring at him strangely, but before his teacher could interrupt Stan and Kenny with any complaints of disrespect and imprudence Stan asked nervously,

"W-what? Who's asking for me? What's going on?"

Kenny's face flushed as he simply shouted, "Kyle!"

Stan instantaneously shot up out of his seat and ran out of the room, following Kenny's orange tail. He was lead to the nurse's office where Kyle was lying on his back on one of the futon-looking beds. Two nurses were crowded around him, but one quickly raced off to the back room, muttering some complicated medication with far too many syllables for Stan to care about. Stan immediately knelt by Kyle and inquired, "W-what happened?!"

Kyle smiled weakly, facing him with a pale face as he replied softly, "N-nothing, Stan. Don't worry about me. But I don't think I should have those pop-tarts again…they're pretty filled with sugar."

Stan's stomach sank as his short daydream of Kyle dying over pop-tarts that had appeared humorously in his mind on the bus became reality. He gripped Kyle's shoulder, his heart beginning to pound with worry as he stammered, "R-really? This…this is all my fault?"

Kyle rose his clammy hand over Stan's and told him reassuringly, "No, Stan…none of this could ever be your fault. Don't blame yourself. Stan, I'm going to be perfectly alright. I'm just a little sick."

Stan was still worried beyond Kyle's comprehension. Stan quizzed, "…how sick?"

Kyle chuckled sickly before slurring slightly, "You're still coming over after school, loser."

Stan smiled; he knew then that Kyle would be okay. He was always worried at times like these, when Kyle was clearly in need of help, but was always trying to do the 'selfless thing', the 'strong thing' so that he wouldn't be a 'burden' to anyone. It made Stan anxious and immensely protective over Kyle. Maybe Stan was worried because he felt like he was indirectly the cause of pain for Kyle; maybe Stan was worried of losing Kyle—the only one in the world who never asked anything of Stan. Or maybe Stan was worried for Kyle because he secretly knew that the road of 'selflessness' and 'strength' was an incredibly lonely one. Maybe he didn't want that for Kyle.

He never wanted Kyle to be alone; never. He never wanted Kyle to be without care or affection, because he knew Kyle deserved so much that he didn't receive.

_I'll always be with him._

The thought sort of spilled into the front of his mind; it made his heart thump a little louder, as if it were a mistake. His brain had nearly ordered him, that he would never leave Kyle. That no matter what Kyle said or did, Stan swore to himself that he would never allow Kyle to know one lonely day. That no matter what kind of person Stan became, no matter how he changed, he would give Kyle all of his time and all of his care.

Stan's grip tightened a little before he whimpered, "…good, you faggot."

Kyle laughed at Stan's insult with a muffled cough and turned to Stan again before demanding quietly, "Stan…you should go back to class…I promise I'll be fine. I'll see you on the bus after school."

Stan was sold then; when Kyle promised something, he never broke it. Stan's heart finally beat at rest as he rose and smiled before murmuring, "…fine…you better really be okay."

Kyle chuckled, somewhat reluctant to let go of Stan's hand for reasons he couldn't place before telling him, "I'll really be okay, Stan."

Stan grinned; "Then I'll see you on the bus."

"You'll see me on the bus." Kyle repeated

"Promise?"

Kyle laughed, "Yes, Stan, I promise."

Stan finally surrendered and turned to walk back to class; he had just made eye-contact with Kenny when he stopped in his tracks. He turned his head slightly, spotting what had stopped his turn and cocked an eyebrow as he looked to Kyle. Kyle's hand was still tightly gripping Stan's.

The charcoal-haired boy began to form a question kind enough to have Kyle elaborate, but Kyle immediately let go of Stan's hand the moment he realized his friend was going to mention it. Stan's heart skipped a beat at the tenderly adorable image of his red-headed friend turning his freckled and flustered face away. His eyes were low and embarrassed and he was holding his hand to his heart as he stammered to Stan, "S-sorry. I forgot I was holding on. Y-you can go."

Stan blushed as he turned away, waving awkwardly as he walked through the threshold with Kenny, replying as he walked away, "It's okay, see ya later, Kye."

Kyle blushed more furiously; there he went again, calling him by the stupid nickname. Kyle didn't know what had just happened, and he hoped it was just the effects of his awful fever that had made him flush with red and forget he had engrossed Stan's hand in his own. Kyle shut his eyes close in mortification and bashfulness as he turned redder yet when his brain scolded him, telling him that he hadn't forgotten at all. That he hadn't wanted Stan to leave or let his hand go. Kyle prayed that when this fever passed, his heart would not beat as it was and he would not wish for Stan to remain ever present.

Stan was walking alongside Kenny in the hallway; Kenny soon turned to Stan and asked,

"So how long as it been?"

Stan turned to Kyle with a strange expression, asking, "Sorry?"

"You know…since you guys starting going out."

Stan's face flooded with several shades of red before he quickly stumbled, "N-n-no! W-what? What are you talking about?! Kyle and I aren't like that…we're…we're just friends! Why would you think we were…like that…"

Kenny smiled solemnly before nodding and sighing out, "I dunno…the way you guys get along so well, you're always spending so much time together, you act like he's dying when he's just sick, and you guys hold hands…I dunno, Stan…you guys just seem to care a lot about each other."

Stan was looking saucer-eyed at Kenny as he spilled those arguments; he was right. Him and Kyle did care deeply about each other, but they were Super Best Friends; they were supposed to be like that…right? It wasn't unnatural to want to spend every day with a Super Best Friend, or to sometimes overreact when they're in pain, or dedicate your life to healing them of their loneliness, right? It's true, that Stan could die in the pain he put himself through whenever he hurt Kyle, that he never really wanted to be without him…but…but that way normal, right?

Stan let his eyes sink and watch his feet stride across the borders of the green tiles of the hall. It was okay to feel like that, right? Those times when he wanted to hug Kyle, those times when he sat up all night worrying in Kyle's nights of illness, those times he fought and sacrificed nearly everything but his dignity for Kyle…everyone had those kinds of times, right?

He turned back to Kenny as he asked, "You really think he's like that?"

Kenny returned Stan's gaze and replied with a question, "Like that? You mean gay?"

Stan nodded nervously, but Kenny responded without missing a beat, "Yeah. I always kinda suspected he was that way. With the way he's always sticking up for you even though he's a scrawny, unpopular, sickly diabetic, and the way he admires you and stuff…it just always made sense to me. But I don't hear you saying you don't feel that way about him, huh, Stan?"

Kenny nudged Stan's arm with his elbow and added a sleazy wink with the ending of his question. Stan blushed again as he stuttered, "N-no! Of course I'm not! Are you out of your mind?! I…I could never be like that…"

Kenny laughed, "…yeah, Stan…sure."


	4. You Lost Your Lies, it's Like You're

Stan was sitting in Math, unable to concentrate. Not only was he distracted as it was the last period of the day, but all he could think of was Kyle. He was staring at these scientific notation equations written up in off-yellow chalk on the blackboard, but he saw nothing that made logical sense. In his mind's eye he could only see Kyle and his green ushanka, turning his painfully adorable, blushing pout away as he murmured about accidentally forgetting to let Stan's hand go.

Stan's chin was slumped in his hand again as he stared with a glazed interest. He blushed as he remembered what Kenny had said to him. Suggesting something like that was sick, wasn't it? It was twisted and Stan should be upset, right? He should be angry with Kenny, he should be shocked and disturbed by the very thought of…

Of holding Kyle's hand…

Of brushing his hand along Kyle's flustered cheeks…

Of embracing Kyle closely…

Of running his hands across Kyle's revealed, rare flesh…

Of kissing Kyle…

"Mr. Marsh?" Ms. Ellen asked curiously

Stan snapped back into reality and stammered, "S-sorry? What?"

His teacher chuckled and stated in monotone, "I know that this is last period, Mr. Marsh, but please try to stay on target and leave your daydreaming for later."

_I can't daydream of Kyle later, you hag, I'll be at his house with him later…_

"Yeah…sorry." Instead Stan replied

He didn't mean it, though; he continued to imagine Kyle. He had forgotten what it looked like under Kyle's ushanka; he remembered Kyle's insanely large Jew afro when they were young, but he wondered if he had changed at all. Without allowing his brain to do so, it produced an image of himself, slowly removing the dreaded ushanka and pulling Kyle to him by the small of his back. He imagined Kyle smiling to him, happily melting in Stan's arms as Stan pulled him closer and set his canines into Kyle's tender neck.

Stan tried to stop the perverse images from entering his mind; of his hands crawling up Kyle's chest and unzipping him, throwing the clothing to the side. He imagined Kyle returning the favor and removing Stan's black shirt from underneath his jacket as well. Stan's naked chest was running against Kyle's then removed white shirt. Their expressions were painted with soft strokes of rose on their faces as they pulled closer to each other in his mind. Kyle's lanky arms wrapped around Stan's neck, pulling him closer and into a desperate kiss as Stan reached down and released the metal button of its tight hold in the denim net across it.

"Mr. Marsh!" the irritating voice returned

Stan jumped as the bell rang and allowed him to out-run the surely torturous reprimanding he would receive from the elderly woman that so haunted his every ninth period. She was a terrible woman, Ms. Ellen. She had never done Stanley Marsh any harm until this day, until this day that she nearly made him late to meeting Kyle at bus and saving Kyle the seat next to him. He 'did' make it on time to see Kyle boarding the bus and raced to sit next to him. Not that anyone would take his seat, but he had so waited to see Kyle all day; he was simply eager.

He smiled as he rested next to his best friend and asked in a friendly tone, "So, how are you feeling, Kye?"

_That damn nickname again…_

"Oh…much better, thanks, Stan." Kyle replied with a content smile

Kyle no longer appeared pale or ill. His presence wasn't clammy and unnerving as it was only hours ago, and it made Stan sigh with content. Stan was about to start conversation, but was stopped before the first syllable reached the air, as he noticed Kyle turning his head away to stare out the window. Stan frowned slightly, asking simply, "Is there something wrong, Kye?"

Kyle blushed and was now determined not to let Stan see it as his eyes lowered and he muttered, "Don't worry about it."

Stan instantaneously gripped Kyle's shoulder and twisted him around, stating harshly, "No. I worry about, Kyle…as much as you seem to hate it, I do and I don't plan on stopping. No matter what you say…I'll always care about you, Kyle, and that's why I worry. I want you to smile. All the time…so tell me what's going on…"

Kyle's heart beat with an unfamiliar pace and weight as he told Stan, "I'm sad…cause you are, Stan."

Stan blushed, still refusing to release Kyle's shoulder from his hand. Stan replied, "…what?'

Kyle flushed with red color furiously, he was so red in fact that Stan quite realized it and thought that his friend's fever was returning. Stan, though was terribly incorrect, as Kyle finally threw himself forward, onto Stan and quickly and strongly embraced him. Stan's heart pounded in his ears as his peripheral vision captured his daydreamed ushanka and Kyle muttered softly,

"I'm sad when you're sad, Stan…I can help as much as you can help worrying about me…I just care too much about you, and when I know you're confused and upset…I get the same way…so please, Stan…tell me what to do…tell me what to do to make you happy again; like you used to be."

Stan gripped Kyle back and smiled as he cuddled into the crook of Kyle's sweet smelling neck. He melted in the warm, silk skin of what Stan could feel of Kyle's neck and cheek as he replied,

"I want her back…"

Stan knew, that Kyle knew exactly who he was talking about. And although Stan hated himself for it, he knew Kyle had silently promised to get him the girl he had been dreaming of for so long.


	5. Moving Out Of Time, And The Whole World

It had been a week since Kyle's indirect promise. Stan was walking around, down by the stores and wondering when he would escape the terribly cold weather and reach Kyle's house. The moment he thought of Kyle, those perverse images from Math re-entered his mind. This was not the first time these images had re-visited Stan. In actuality, he had been thinking a lot about it. It disturbed him to no end.

For his dirty dreams of the redhead, perverse scenes running through his mind during class and awful beat of his heart since Kyle gripped his hand last week he was rewarded no sleep. He was fairly confused, because since he was little he had always had a thing for Ms. Wendy Testaburger. Always. He knew what attraction was, and this was it. He had always thought of Wendy, of undressing her, of kissing her, of being her hero, but…now she was replaced with Kyle in his mind's eyes.

He let out a sigh of fog as he approached Kyle's house. He loved showing up at Kyle's unannounced. He loved surprising his best friend with his welcomed visits. He knocked and was answered by Mrs. Broflovski. Her large hair was as stiff as ever and she was still round and rosy as she exclaimed, "Oh, Stanley! How have you been? You're here to see Kyle? He's up in Ike's room, helping him make costumes for Ike's play!"

Stan's head rushed as it always did at her hurried interrogations. He smiled nervously, walking through the threshold as she moved out of his way. He grinned, walking towards the stairs and saying kindly, "Thanks, Mrs. Broflovski!"

He soon found himself in a hall and entered what he had grown to know was Ike's room. He walked in, though…to see something he never thought he would. And he had hoped he wouldn't, as it would increase his sinfully dirty dreams…

"Stan!" Kyle's voiced echoed in surprise as Ike gathered some pins off to the side of his bed

Stan stood in awe at the short, Japanese school-girl outfit Kyle was adorned in. Kyle had turned to him slowly, his hands with fingers curled raising to his chest in girlish, dainty embarrassment. The skirt twirled as he turned, the air lifting the top a little, revealing a glimpse of the toned stomach of his friend. Kyle's eyes were worried and sparkling in shock as one of his knees became weak and tilted into his other hairless leg. The image was so cute that Stan nearly fainted, blushing furiously before trying to compose himself and crack a joke, "Is this something I should know about?"

Kyle laughed anxiously, rushing to reply, "N-no! Ike has a play at school and…and he wanted me to help…I told him that he'd need to make it small on me to fit his friend, but…he didn't care…"

Stan chuckled, walking in to the room further, trying to remove the red from his face. He let his chuckles die out into a smile as he approached this math day-dream come real. He was standing in front of Kyle and Stan realized something intriguing. That when he looked down to Kyle, in the girl's uniform, noting his bashful fluster, freckled cheeks, enchanting, mesmerizing emerald eyes…he really looked like a girl. Stan was repulsed when his mind told him how he thought Kyle was cuter as a boy.

Stan rose his hand to Kyle's surprise; he knew Kyle was almost frightened by the way his shimmering, swirling irises followed Stan's hand to the top of his ushanka. As Stan's arm traveled further into Kyle's air, he instinctively moved closer to Kyle. Stan's eyes were low and lustful, and Kyle was intimidated…why would Stan look at him like a hungry prostitute? Kyle's face reddened even more deeply as Stan shifted ever so slightly and let his face grow closer to Kyle's. Their lips no more than an inch apart as Stan gripped the green ushanka and removed it; tossing it onto Ike's bed.

Kyle's knees were beginning to grow weak; he didn't know why. His heart was racing; he didn't know why. His face was growing hotter; he didn't know why; his arms begged to run up Stan's chest and let his hands brush and grip through Stan's hair. Stan's brain barked at him, screaming to him to play out the twisted scenes that had been flashing before his mind all week. To eliminate his hat, then his jacket (or in this case, his school-girl shirt), then allow him to take off whatever top he had on, then Stan would again take over and discard of whatever else Kyle was wearing.

Their faces were so close and Kyle was worried that Stan may kiss him. He was scared, frightened beyond comprehension; his heart was pounding at his ribcage, trying to push through his flesh or jump out of his throat. He didn't want Stan to kiss him…no…he…no, that's right, he didn't want Stan to…to…

…to…kiss him?

"Stan?" Ike's voice pierced through

Stan immediately stumbled backwards, chuckling and replying, "Y-yeah?"

"What were you doing?" Ike inquired

Stan nervously stammered, "I-I was taking the hat off…h-he looks more like a girl like that."

Ike observed Kyle with his index finger to his chin shortly, then told Stan, "You're right. He does look like a girl."

Kyle flustered cutely; Stan smiled as the redhead turned to his little brother and spat, "You're stupid, Ike, I don't look anything like a girl!"

Stan laughed and as he realized he had regained his grace and confidence he snorted, "Yeah, you do, dude."

Kyle turned to Stan sharply, a humorously offended look in his emerald eyes as he bickered, "No, I don't! And don't talk to me Mr. Emo-Flip-Faggot!"

Stan became defensive quickly and he fought back, "Hey! Girls dig Emo-flips, you ass-hat!"

Kyle's fists clenched as he snarled back, "I'm not an ass-hat, uncle-fucker, and you're such a liar! The only girl you care about seeing your hair-care is Wendy I-EAT-TESTACLES!"

Stan blushed with anger as he retorted, "WHAT? I am not an uncle-fucker, you're the uncle-fucker and Wendy TESTABURGER is way ho—"

Stan didn't finish his comment, though, as he finally noticed what he had revealed a while ago. Kyle's hair had indeed changed since they were little, Stan learned. Kyle's fro had calmed and turned into heavy, silky curls twisting down to his neck. They were a beautiful, dark, shiny coat of fiery red and it had captured all of Stan's attention until he heard Kyle make a girly squeak. Stan shot his eyes to Kyle's red face, his jade eyes showing forming tears as he twisted around to Ike and barked, "IKE! YOU JUST SHOVED THAT PIN IN MY ASS CHEEK! WATCH IT YOU LITTLE FUCKER! THAT HURT!"

Ike laughed and replied, "Sorry, Kyle…but you're getting distracted."

Kyle smirked to Stan and stated, "His fault."

Stan lowered his eyes evilly and snickered, "Yeah, come on, Kyle, stay on target."

Kyle glared, but with a smile. And that was the only important part to Stan.

After many "ouch"s, "watch where you put that!"s, "shut the fuck up"s and several insults regarding Wendy's meals and Stan's sexual orientation, Stan and Kyle left Ike's room fully dressed in their own clothing.

Stan was standing in Kyle's room with him, discussing exactly how much Kyle hated Ms. Garrison when Kyle's mother entered and announced,

"Boys, there's a blizzard starting. Stanley, your parents are still at your uncle's, upstate, so your mother told me to keep you here. Thank Abraham that it's Friday! Well, Ike's still at his friend's house, so I'm keeping him there, but your father wants me to join him; Kyle, you know how he hates this weather alone. So I'm going to him, you boys will be alone for a while if not the whole night, are you boys okay with that?"

Kyle looked to Stan; not acknowledging the rushed sentences of his mother as he had grown so used to them. Stan nodded and Kyle replied, "Yeah, that sounds fine, Mom."

She grinned and blew a kiss to Kyle before turning and shutting the door. Kyle plopped down on his bed, his back facing the ceiling as he asked Stan dully, "So, how do I get her?"

Stan turned from poking around Kyle's large collection of thick books on his shelves and ventured, "…sorry?"

Kyle closed his eyes tiredly against his puffing pillow, sighed and asked with a scratchy voice, "Wendy…how should I get her to like you again?"

Stan looked away bashfully, ashamed of what he had made Kyle think he needed to do. Stan coughed before telling Kyle while absently running his fingers down the spines of books, "You don't have to do this, Kyle…it wasn't fair of me to…say that…"

Kyle popped an eye open for a moment, then decided he really was too tired to keep it open, closed it and responded exasperated, "Ugh…Stan…I'm not doing this for my health…I'm doing this because I care about you. If I didn't want to help you, Stan, I wouldn't do it."

Stan flustered very lightly as his eyes traveled back to Kyle's bed.

There he lie; silky smooth, fiery curls falling over each other onto his pillow, his back muscles outlined by the slightly tight black shirt he wore; the small of his back was just scarcely showing, but it still led Stan to his doom as his temptation took over and his eyes gathered Kyle's rounded bottom hungrily. His eyes stayed there for a long while, devouring the image and all of the dirty thoughts it provided; he then traveled downward, noting how even in the green corduroy pants he wore, Kyle's legs were still visibly shaped and strong from the track team he had joined. Lastly he watched Kyle's big feet stretch, his toes curl and Stan could only think of all the rumors abo—

"Okay?" Kyle's voice cracked through

"…uhm…sorry, what?"

Kyle sat up, flushed, but he didn't know why. He glared at Stan and told him, "I care about you, Dude. As much as it might sound stupid and whatever, but…I do. A lot, I care about you a lot, okay? So yeah, for the rest of our lives, I'm gonna put my ass on the line, stretch my neck out and go out of my way for you to be happy. Get used to it."

Stan still pouted in astonished happiness as Kyle rose and walked up to Stan, planting a friendly hand on his shoulder. He smiled and suggested, "How about I go make hot cocoa, we sit down in front of the T.V. and see if any good scary movies are on?"

Stan smiled, he felt his heart pounding, but it was a good pounding. It wasn't pounding really, it was…singing…it was the best way he could phrase it…

"Yeah…that'd be cool."


	6. Crumbles Right Beneath You, So I

The night progressed, as did the noisy storm outside. Kyle and Stan were sitting on Kyle's couch that sat a few feet away from the T.V., against the wall. All the lights were off, but the lights illuminating from the television made the steam rising from the hot chocolate visible. Kyle's eyes were still heavy and as much as he wished he could fight the urge, he closed them as this old black and white vampire film did not scare him. Stan jumped when the black-haired Dracula-look-alike popped out from behind the wall. Stan then stated bluntly,

"She's a dumb bitch…I mean…her brother told her that vampires lived there. I mean…do you need a lot more foreshadowing than that? I hope she does die. That'd teach her a goddamn lesson."

When he did not receive a reply from Kyle, he turned over to see his young friend sleeping. He smiled; his expression was peaceful and innocent. Stan chuckled, though…because Kyle had always been pure. He never did anything gruesome like the other boys. Never said anything perverted, never thought of anything unmentionable while parents were present. Never did anything of consequence.

_So he could never love me._

Stan shook his head at the thought. Why would he think of something like that? It's not as if he loved Kyle. I mean, of course he loved Kyle, but he didn't _love_ Kyle. He could never love Kyle like that…

_That's okay, though, cause he could never love you back._

His brain spoke the truth, though. If Kyle did nothing of consequence, he would never make a radical decision like coming out and saying he was gay, much less say that he's gay for Stan. N-not that Stan wanted him to say anything of the nature. Kyle muttered something, breathed deeply and asked, "W-what did I miss?"

Stan replied, "Nothing. Dumb-Bitch is dead. Her Whore-Friend is going into the house to find her now."

Stan almost felt sorry for the actresses which had earned these offensive nicknames between him and Kyle. Kyle chuckled and told with a broad smile, "Dumb-Bitch really was a dumb bitch. She should've listened to her brother."

Stan laughed, "I thought the same thing."

"Great minds think alike." Kyle replied

Stan smirked, "You're the great mind here, Kye…I'm not as smart as you."

Kyle blushed before stammering, "N-no, that's not true, Stan. And even if it were, I'm a book-worm, and you're an amazing athlete. You'll always be stronger than me, and much more socially accepted."

Stan smiled and asked weakly, "You really think I'm a good athlete, Kye?"

Kyle cocked an eyebrow at him and Stan wanted to cover his mouth or possibly put a gun in it. It was the girliest thing he could have said. He never questioned his athleticism…

"Uhm…Stan…are you okay?"

"Y-yeah…I'm fine…I'm…"

"…Stan…you've been acting weird around me all week…is there something you want to talk about?" Kyle kindly offered

"N-No…I mean…well…no…there's nothing. It's nothing."

Kyle clearly did not believe him, and Stan knew Kyle knew him well enough to recognize when Stan was lying. The lightening and thunder cracked loudly and the television screen turned black; the lights from the kitchen turned off as well and Kyle shrieked, drawing closer to Stan instinctively. Stan blushed when he felt Kyle grow close to him under the blanket. Stan had his back to the arm of the couch, his legs open; Kyle had fallen into his lap, his curls leaking onto Stan's chest. As the lightening cracked again, Stan reached forward in the pitch darkness of the room and gripped Kyle's head to his chest.

He heard Kyle muttered, "Uhm…Stan?"

"Shut up."

Kyle blushed bashfully against Stan. It almost scared Kyle how forceful Stan sounded…was he angry?

"Stan…did I do something wrong?"

Stan flustered, wishing he could let the butterflies escape his stomach. He looked away and decided to be strong and try to tell Kyle something. He was going to try and be like Kyle. To tell him something silently. To send a message completely through actions. Stan, though, didn't know how to show someone, "I have a dirty day-dream about you in Math and I've been waking up with wood every morning cause you're in my regular dreams too; oh yeah, and my subconscious keeps telling me I'm in love with you"

So he decided to try and show Kyle affection.

"No." Stan murmured as he twisted his fingers more deeply into Kyle's curls and pulled him closer to his chest, leaned his head down onto Kyle's and repeated, "No…you haven't done anything wrong."

"Then…why are you-"

"Don't."

Kyle was immediately silenced. Stan began…

"I…" Stan dug his hands more deeply into the labyrinth of Kyle's silk, "I just…don't know what I'm going through lately…so…I needed this…I just…I just wanted to know what you felt like."

By the end of Stan's statement, his heart was pumping loud and fast, nearly painfully, and he knew Kyle could hear and probably feel it. Stan knew that Kyle was smart, smart in fact, to decipher that Stan was experimenting with sexuality. Why else would he want to know how he felt? Unless Stan was experimenting with cannibalism. Kyle found that highly unlikely, though. Stan's hands were twitching restlessly when he felt Kyle rise and rest his cheek in the crook of Stan's neck. Kyle's warm, soft skin calm Stan's nerves as Kyle whimpered,

"Then don't hesitate, Stan. I know you, and you never have to explain yourself to me. You know I'll always care about you, and when you're confused, I am too. If you wanted me to hug you, dude, no matter how gay it is, I'll hug you."

Stan felt Kyle's hands move from the tight space between Kyle's chest and his own to his back, around to his shoulders and grip. Stan's chest tingled with reassurance and content as Kyle announced softly, "We've got some candles for the menorah under the television cabinet, we can light the menorah for something."

Stan chuckled, tightening his hold around Kyle's frame before replying, "You're such a Jew."

Kyle smiled against Stan's collarbone before telling him, "Shut up, loser."

Kyle rose off of Stan, to Stan's disappointment and wandered in the dark for a while before finding his way to the television. He knelt down and let his hand clumsily search for the small box in which he could find his candles; it took him a good six minutes, but he eventually found them beside the menorah and lighter in his cabinet. He settled the menorah on the table that sat in front of the sofa and began shoving the candles in their holders. Stan joined him on the floor, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he sat on his knees, watching Kyle's skilled speed in lighting the candles. Kyle jokingly recited the Hebrew prayer for Hanukah once all of the candles were lit.

Stan smirked and told Kyle, "Don't do that, dude…it freaks me out."

Kyle smiled, "…what freaks you out?"

Stan chuckled as he replied, "You're good at being a Jew and stuff."

Kyle laughed hysterically, telling Stan, "I've never heard you say anything as retarded as that, dude."

Stan shrugged, "I do what I do."

Kyle smiled before his shoulders spastically shot up. Stan asked curiously, "…what was that?"

Kyle responded bashfully, "Eh…nothing, just got the chills."

Stan rose his arm across the menorah to Kyle's shoulder and threw the blanket over him. The blanket, however, was not as long as Stan had thought and brought him closer to his Jewish friend. Stan looked up to Kyle now; the candles' flames illuminated his face with a glowing gold, causing his complexion to call attention to his flustered freckles. Stan was too fascinated with the golden center of Kyle's jade eyes to notice how he was growing closer to Kyle. Kyle's eyes followed Stan's; Kyle realized he was the only one here who noticed Stan's advancements and Kyle was not about to make Stan stop.

After all, he had just told Stan that he should do…whatever he wanted to.

Kyle's mind instantaneously produced perverse images of what Stan would do if he could "do whatever he wanted to with Kyle". The menorah's candles glowing against them, creating dramatic shadows against them as Stan's lips slowly approached Kyle's. Kyle shut his eyes tightly, more nervous than he had ever been. The very tips of their lips were touching, their noses beginning to fit against each other when the television shot back on, scaring them both out of their wits. The phone rang and Kyle immediately picked it up from the table, clicked a button and asked exasperated, "YES?...I mean…yes?"

…

"Yeah, we're fine…"

…

"…three days?!"

…

"…do we have enough food for Stan to stay here three days?"

…

"Kay, bye Mom."

Kyle looked to Stan apologetically and Stan swallowed his heart.

"You…might be here for a while, Stan."

"Yeah…I heard."


	7. Might've Made A Few Mistakes, But That

**WARNING: YAOI PERFERTEDNESS AHEAD**

The television was still flashing black, grey and white colors into the room as Stan and Kyle sipped on their hot chocolate. Some time into the night they had become bolted to the sofa. Since Kyle's mother called the room had fallen silent; they only watched the menorah burning or the television illustrating the melodramatic tale of a vampire. Kyle suddenly broke through the silence,

"Three days…mom said that all three days there won't be any sun. It's all gonna be covered with black fog. She thinks it's aliens or something, but…we'll be having black-outs, no light outside and the snow for three days straight. No one's leaving their houses."

Stan looked to Kyle; Kyle did not look concerned at all, so Stan did not let himself worry. He leaned into Kyle and asked, "Are you scared?"

Kyle shook his head negatively, still not removing his indifferent gaze from the television, "No."

Stan smiled before sighing, "Jews are never scared."

Kyle looked to Stan with a cocked eyebrow, inquiring, "…what?

Stan argued, "Like…they just followed Moses into the desert without a single complaint or fear—"

Kyle interrupted, "Dude, my people were slaves. If some crazy guy with a stick told me I could escape with him, I'd follow him too."

Stan continued, "You guys were brave enough to kill Jesus even after he told you guys that he was God's son…"

Kyle glared to Stan jokingly, stating dully, "…Stan…majority of the world hates us for that."

Stan shrugged, replying, "And what about Moses…if I saw a burning bush with a voice…I'd shit myself. Not only did he listen to it, but he followed its orders of killing the only family he had ever known."

Kyle rose an index finger in the air before telling Stan matter-of-factly, "Actually, he never killed his brother. He only ensured that his brother would die sooner."

Stan let his side slump and fell against Kyle. Stan's shoulder was against Kyle's chest, creating a fluster on Stan's cheeks as he shrugged again and told Kyle, "Whatever. Still counts as killing him."

Kyle looked down onto Stan's ebony strands of silk as he asked, "You think that counts as killing someone?"

"Duh…I mean, he just left him out there, dude."

Kyle replied, "But…he didn't end his brother's life. He only…like…made sure it would."

Stan glared and snorted, "I think I'm the better Jew here."

Kyle laughed, "Yeah, sure, Stan. Besides the whole fact that you believe in Jesus Christ divinity, you're a perfect Jew."

Stan chuckled, "I am."

Kyle smiled, "You know, Stan…you're awesome."

Stan looked up to his friend, his heart pumping with charm as he asked, "…uhm, thanks, dude, but…why?"

Kyle did not remove his eyes from Stan's as he told him softly, "You're just cool in every way. I mean…if I had to choose between a life with a woman I loved, or a life of abstinence with you…I'd definitely choose you."

Stan flushed with color and he remembered something intriguing…

"_You know I'll always care about you, and when you're confused, I am too."_

"_I'm sad when you're sad, Stan…I can help it as much as you can help worrying about me…I just care too much about you, and when I know you're confused and upset…I get the same way…"_

Was Kyle telling him this…to tell him something else? That maybe…maybe Kyle was a little confused too? Stan leaned up, pressing his chest against Kyle's as their faces neared. Stan smiled curiously when he realized he was too wimpy to actually go through with kissing Kyle and instead wrapped his arms around Kyle's frame. He asked, "Kye…can we just…go to sleep here?"

Kyle chuckled softly, "Yeah, sure, Stan."

Kyle watched over Stan as he fell asleep, and honestly, Stan knew his friend was watching and it made it hard for Stan to fall asleep, but he did eventually. Stan's breathing had grown nearly silent as the television buzzed over his murmuring. Kyle was still watching this pathetic vampire marathon in black and white and was about to fall asleep when he heard Stan mutter something inaudible. Kyle disregarded it until Stan shifted. Stan's strong, athletic arms stretched downward; his tenacious hands wrapping their fingers around the waistband of Kyle's boxers.

Kyle immediately was snapped out of his tired glaze; Stan's soft brush against his abdomen had awakened and excited all of his nerves. As much as Kyle was disturbed and shocked by the simple touch that would not strike anyone else any significance, he was inwardly hoping Stan would continue his unconscious, curious excursion. Kyle's face was beating with the fast-paced blood that had flooded to it from the moment he had felt Stan move. Stan sighed lowly in his sleep as he moved upward on Kyle's body; his lips meeting Kyle's neck as his fingers spread and pushed his hands further down Kyle's pants.

The instant Stan's flesh had reached the intensely sensitive area on Kyle, Kyle's curls bobbed as his head shot back. His back arched slightly as Stan's hands still stretched against the now tough evidence of boyhood on Kyle, and Kyle could not hold back the moan that escaped him, "Nnnh—"

Kyle's eyes shut tightly in pleasure as Stan had gone searching for Kyle's neck when Kyle arched back, and found it. Stan's hands began running down sensitive, heated skin, awakening an unfamiliar desperation in Kyle as Stan's perverse dream of his Jewish friend continued to be reenacted in the physical world by his tongue slipping out against Kyle's neck. Kyle tried to hold back, but simply couldn't; he let slip a whimper of Stan's name, thus proving to wake his friend. Stan's eyes opened slowly, his brain not completely registering the stiff, torrid member in his palms at first. Once he did realize his position, however, he looked to Kyle with wide, mortified eyes, a red face and quickened pace of heart.

"K-Kyle?"

Kyle's red face was only visible behind his chin; his neck still sent backwards. Kyle's tightly shut eyes were still too overcome with physical shock to open them; one opened, looked to Stan and closed again. He stammered in reply, "S-Stan…y-you're…"

He couldn't finish his sentence, though. His nervous system was jumping, his skin was echoing in heat, his heart was racing, his mind was spinning, but blank. His body was fighting against Kyle, his lower region begging to reply to Stan's curious fingers. Kyle's face was so scarlet, Stan was scared of bodily harm towards Kyle and his perfect, freckled face. Kyle's head, though, wasn't working properly and reminded him of a promise he had secretly made to himself a long time ago. His bedroom eyes opened lowly, looking to Stan's unmoving image; Stan's ocean eyes met with Kyle's and Stan felt violated by the very look in Kyle's eyes.

Kyle shot forward, crushing his mouth hungrily over Stan's. He immediately broke through Stan's lips and ran his tongue against Stan's and dominated the kiss lustfully. His arms moved from his sides, up to Stan's chest, then slowly migrated to Stan's neck. This placement allowed him to determine just how much of him Stan would let in, and it would insure Stan could not escape. To Kyle's surprise Stan returned the kiss, and still did not remove his hands, no matter how Kyle's size grew. Kyle was reluctant at first, but moved his hands from Stan's neck, down to his chest again and pushed away lightly, breathing in gasps of air.

Stan gasped as well, asking, "W-what was that?!"

Kyle looked to him; his emerald eyes still hungry with passion, fogged with desirous lust. Kyle wrapped his arms around Stan's neck, one hand sliding through Stan's charcoal hair, and another gripping to his shoulder. Kyle whimpered with hot breath against Stan's feverous neck, "I c-could never let s-someone touch me in s-such a way, without ever having k-kissed them…that would make me f-feel used…"

Stan blushed furiously, wondering if he should finish what he had started; play out all of his perverse daydreams. He could not decide; he didn't know what to do, so he leaned forward and bit softly into Kyle's neck. Kyle moaned quietly as Stan bit, then ran his tongue over the tender flesh. Stan's breath was becoming humid, and suddenly every nerve was encouraging him to continue his lecherous attack on Kyle, and every piece of clothing felt like that much too much, his abdomen began to ache once he realized he had made a choice. He had his hands lower onto Kyle further, capturing Kyle's price of puberty and running his hands along it as he continued to leave a trail of pungent kisses down Kyle's neck.

He was flooded with pride when he felt Kyle's hands tighten on their recently assigned areas in Stan's hair and back. Stan could feel Kyle trying to hold them back, but in the dark, silent, yet somehow noisy room Stan would sometimes here Kyle's soft cries, whimpers and disinclined moans of pleasure. This pride, compared to nothing, though, as Kyle pulled Stan's head away from Kyle's neck by his hair; Stan received only a moment of air before Kyle clamorously ran his tongue over Stan's lips, requesting entrance. Stan did let Kyle through and for a long while felt Kyle's moans echo behind his own lips. Kyle gripped Stan's locks of ebony before pulling away and murmuring lowly, "God, I want you, Stan…"

Stan forcefully kissed Kyle again, their tongues fighting for dominance and when Stan was positive Kyle had reached his climax…

…he woke up.

"Kyle!" Stan called out as he woke up.

The morning seemed to have arrived, although the only way he was able to tell this was by the clock on the wall above the television which was still flickering the old movies. Stan looked up and collected the memories of falling asleep on Kyle's chest after kindly asking if they could sleep on the couch. He sighed…another filthy dream of the Jewish boy…

He looked up to Kyle and anticipated greatly the other boy waking up and using his genius to create something edible. That, sadly, was all he could wish for from Kyle as of now.


	8. Was Back When You Would Smile, and We

Kyle woke without Stan present; he turned over and out from beneath the warm blanket. The house was still darkened by the lurking, dark fog outside. He scratched his fingers through his loose curls messily as he walked through the livingroom to the kitchen. He looked around and called out in his raspy morning-voice, "…Stan?"

There was no reply.

"…Stan? Where are you?"

He watched as Stan entered the kitchen from behind him; reading an untitled book as he entered. Kyle stood in shock as Stan read aloud,

"I fear, too early: for my mind misgives  
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars  
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date  
With this night's revels and expire the term  
Of a despised life closed in my breast  
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.  
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,  
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen!"

Kyle immediately snatched his journal back and snarled, "W-Why were you going through my stuff, you snake?!"

Stan snickered, "Don't be so pissy, Romeo, I was bored and reading some of your books. I didn't know you wrote old English…poetry…"

Kyle turned away bashfully, replying, "I didn't write it. William Shakespeare wrote it; it was just a passage stuck in my head. I decided to write it down."

"Stuck in your head?...you mean…you memorized that?"

Kyle blushed more heavily as he told Stan, "Well…yeah…"

Stan smirked, shocked as he stated, "That's…like…sick, dude…"

Kyle smiled at the lingo-drowned compliment just as Stan added with a chuckle, "I mean…totally gay, but…still pretty cool."

"I give my thanks, sir." Kyle replied in a slight British accent

Stan tried to imitate the sophisticated accent and told Kyle, "By no means, Sir Kyle, you need not give me thanks for your wonderfully executed literary knowledge; despite the utter homosexuality that may be judged by which."

Kyle cocked his eyebrow, fixed his hand on his popped hip before he said, "That, Stanley made no sense, me thinks, though, I shall endow you leeway and convince you thus forth that my leisure pursuit effects not my significant other's gender. May I begin by having it known that I do not approve of your judgmental state and whence another time arises that mine sexuality is questioned I shall have at you. Possibly with an eating utensil. Or something ignited. It shall depend on how creative I am feeling, but have you no doubts I shall extract my revenge when you least expect it!"

Stan didn't know how to compete, but retorted, "Your preferences of which you've fooled me to believe are of no significance to me, as you well know that I am indecisive and I must inform you that rather than feeling taken back I am curious to know whom you would choose to perform on if your options were limited to myself, Sir McCormick or Sir Cartman."

Kyle rolled his eyes, replying simply, "Cartman is hardly a sir. He is a monster at the most dignified, so please, Sir Marsh, don't be foolish. As I have no attachment to our acquaintance Kenneth, I would not wish to extract anything from him. So I suppose, if put in the situation, I would choose to play lover to you."

Stan's heart thumped as he quickly rose his voice, "You mean to say I appeal to you?"

Kyle immediately stammered, "Y-you interpret me incorrectly, Sir. I never said anything of the like!"

Stan stepped closer to the now insecure Kyle; the candles and television remaining their only lighting. He replied,

"I do not misinterpret you, Sir. I happen to have spotted many holes in your repetitive argument that you are as a toothpick! I have gathered your declarations on several accounts that your emotions are perfectly in sync with mine own, thus you must be just as confused as I! And if you claim not—"

"Halt in your pursuit immediately, Sir! I have made no such declarations in which I have seeked being found to enjoy others as myself!"

"I beg to differ! You have set up a stage in which your protagonist role has willingly led me to my social demise! I put forth this argument, in truth, to erupt truth from you! Now out with your elusive true self or I shall force it out of you!" Stan insisted

"No, I shall not! I will do no such thing; discuss no such topic with you! I know not why you have turned to me as this, sir, but I refuse to play along casually! I will have you know that I am appalled by your words tonight and I will walk away as such!"

Before Kyle could storm away, Stan grabbed him by his wrist. Stan didn't know what he was doing, overcome with perverse lust that lingered after his graphic dream. Kyle dropped his journal as he was forcefully pulled back to Stan. Kyle's hand was pulled behind and upward of Stan's shoulder, their chests just meeting; Kyle was slanted with weak knees, simply looking up to his friend with wide eyes. Stan's bedroom eyes made Kyle want to run; he didn't know why Stan would look at him in such a way and that fear returned. That fear that Stan would kiss him. That awful screeching of his heart…

"You will not run from me. For if you run I will think it in fear and that is the last thing I would ever want between us. I want you to return my gaze and I want you to stay very still."

Kyle did not move. His jade eyes were swimming in Stan's; Stan's eyes shown like a night-time ocean, fogged with a hunger Kyle could not recognize. Kyle's free hand was resting against Stan's chest, just under his shoulder; Stan leaned down a little, recapturing all of Kyle's attention. Kyle could feel Stan's words brushing against his lips as Stan asked softly,

"You will not run?"

"I swear." Kyle replied

Kyle didn't know why they were continuing to use old English, but he thought that maybe it was easier for Stan to admit these things if it felt as if they were pretending, or joking around.

"Please…don't move…I want to see…if I may pursue you…"

As Kyle's face began to glow red, his heart pumped painfully with anticipation and fanciful romance, Stan leaned in ever closer. Slowly Stan was approaching him; at first Stan wore his eyes low, to perhaps see if Kyle would stop him. Kyle's mind was racing with questions he couldn't catch at such a fast rate, his body was pulsating with anxiety. He hadn't been kissed since they were eight, and that was Bebe Stevens. As if that meant anything to him. But here was his best friend—Super Best Friend---the only person who ever understood his sensitivity, his ambitions and rationality. His best friend…only friend, if you will. The only person he actually enjoyed in this Godforsaken pit of Colorado.

Stan was slowly growing closer and Kyle wanted to object, he wanted to call out and end Stan's advancements, but he only got so far as to part his lips not a centimeter from each other. Only a moment after did Stan gently, almost intimidatedly press his lips against Kyle's. Kyle wanted to think rationally, push Stan away, but he had promised Stan he wouldn't. He promised Stan he would remain still. So he did. He found, though, that Stan's soft lips pressing so timidly against his own weighed heavy on his eyes, and he eventually closed them and returned Stan's shy pressure. Stan seemed encouraged by Kyle's return and let go of Kyle's dainty wrist, allowing him the option to push away. Kyle, though, didn't even realize his hand had been set free until he felt himself tug on Stan's silk hair when Stan ran his tongue over Kyle's lips.

Kyle gripped Stan's collar nervously as he slowly parted his lips completely, allowing Stan to enter. Kyle knew that from the many years of going back and forth from dating Wendy Testaburger, Stanley Marsh would know a thing or two about kissing passionately; this only proved to make Kyle more nervous. Kyle didn't want to discourage Stan, he didn't want Stan to get upset, so he did not stop Stan running his fingers through Kyle's long, tangerine curls, and he did not stop Stan from pulling him closer, pressing their chests together and he certainly did not stop Stan from dominating the kiss, as Kyle was pathetically new to this. Scared of stopping him, the only thing he did to warn Stan that he needed to stop and catch his breath was let out a small whimper which instantaneously stopped Stan's attack on Kyle's mouth.

Once Stan let his lips fall away from Kyle's, they both breathed heavily, gathering all the air they could. Stan's heart was racing and it began bumping even harder against his ribcage when he saw Kyle's scarlet face, pink slightly swollen lips and teary eyes. Stan asked sensitively, "…are you okay?"

Kyle knew that Stan was regarding the tears building up in his eyes and replied, "Y-yeah…it was just…just all a bit new and…overwhelming…"

Kyle's hands were pressed to his upper-chest, his fingers curled as he closed his eyes; gathering himself. Stan watched, still breathing heavily and he wondered…what this made him and Kyle. Did this make them less than friends? Did this make them more than Super Best Friends? Did it make them…lovers?

"Kyle…I-I ne—"

Kyle interrupted, "Do we need to talk about it?"

Stan was taken aback a little by the rushed reaction of his friend, but when he saw Kyle looking as if he was in pain to the hardwood floor, his heart ached. He looked away and told Kyle, "…no…we don't need to."

Kyle ignored Stan's emphasis on "need" and turned away, murmuring, "…I'm going to go take a shower…"

Stan didn't say anything, only listened to his heart beating in crushed pain against his ribcage as he watched his friend walk away and practically run up the stairs. There was nothing else Stan could ask of him now.


	9. Would Go Everywhere, But We Ain't Been

Kyle stood under the hot water feeling his warm, water-glossed lips as if it were for the very first time. Steam filled the small, glass and tiled cubical as he rested his back against the dreadfully freezing wall. He wished he could see a sunrise, watch a flower bloom, beckon the sea onto the shore; anything to escape from his current, rushed thoughts. He let his hand fall from his lips and examined his hands and came to the conclusion; he really did have very dainty hands. Maybe that was another reason Stan had thought Kyle looked so much like a girl. Kyle blushed furiously as he imagined Stan's serious expression looking down at him against Stan's chest. Kyle hoped he only flustered due to the heat.

His heart was still racing with noisy bangs in his ears; what had just happened? Stan had…had…kissed him? Yes, Kyle believed that was what happened. Stan had kissed him.

"_I want to see…if I may pursue you…"_

Remembering the short phrase proved to only redden Kyle further. He sank against the wall, his curls clinging to the fogged tiles. He was seated in the tub, the hot water falling and running down him. Why…why had Stan kissed him? What…what should he do? Stan told him that he was confused when it came to Kyle. How was Kyle supposed to interpret that? When Kyle remembered Stan's slides of dark, raven hair running through his fingers like satin caramel; recalled the breath-taking, lightening turquoise shade of Stan's bedroom eyes following his own; recollected Stan's strong arms wrapping around his frail, usually ill and weak body, desperately pulling him into a timid, unsure kiss it made his heart pound even louder.

Kyle placed his self-proclaimed "dainty" hand over his fast-paced heart to perhaps see if his heart was trying to tell him the right thing to do in Morse Code. He failed to understand it. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall and tried to think clearly, but it was fogged. He did not know if it was fogged with steam or Stan, but either way it left him confused and alone. Kyle's eyes then snapped open, his head jerked forward in shock as he gasped…

_Does…does this mean…I'm losing him?_

Kyle felt alone, for the first time since…since…Kyle couldn't remember when. Maybe when Stan went emo, but it wasn't the same loneliness. It wasn't like this. Kyle stood, or rather sat in this house as if it were empty. His life was empty, he was left with nothing but the short memories his brain could gather of his best friend. Why? Simple. Stan had kissed him. A simple gesture, incredibly simple in fact. So simple that all it takes is one person to lean just close enough to another person to have their lips meet. That one simple gesture had taken their bond of friendship—brotherhood--and shot it out into space, ripping it apart and throwing it in all different directions. It took all Kyle had ever known and throw it out into the never-ending sea of stars and black to leave him dazed and alone. Completely alone.

For he stood now with his dignity. He was alone, not because Stan kissed him, but because of the kiss's effect. That now he had to make a decision and no one could help him. No one could sit down and tell him "this is right" and "this is wrong"; there was no one to ensure him that everything would be okay. Because there was no promising that. His best friend had just kissed him, leading Kyle to believe that they were more than just friends. Alone he must make the decision…what did that mean to him? Did it mean to exit the shower immediately and run into Stan's surely welcoming arms? Did it mean he should try to drown himself here and now? Maybe he should get out and hide in his room the next three days? What was he supposed to do?

He collected his knees closer to himself, hiding his chin in them. He watched a single drop of water run down the glass, sliding door and felt more solitary than he ever had.

Stan stood downstairs; he hadn't moved from the place Kyle had left him. His arms hung loosely by his sides. He wondered if Kyle's heart ached as much as his did. Why had he kissed Kyle?! Why?! He wasn't gay! He wasn't! Not if this was the result! If Kyle feared him; feared speaking to him, ran from him then he couldn't ever! Not that he ever was or ever planned on it! He loved Wendy! He loved her and that was all he needed! He loved her and that was the only person on the face of this whole, wide world who could ever mean love to him! It had been love at first sight, for years he had never doubted that. There was no turning back now. Not now. He didn't love Kyle. He didn't love Kyle. What had even made Kyle so radiant these past few months? What had changed between them so drastically?

Nothing. Nothing had changed, so had Stan felt this way all along? Had Stan never known? Was this…was this him? The real him? No. He didn't love Kyle. He couldn't love Kyle. If he ever loved Kyle…Kyle would run from him. Kyle would leave him alone…and he couldn't go on without Kyle. He could never take another breath if Kyle wasn't taking one right alongside him. It just wouldn't be the same. He could never buy another candy; it just wouldn't be as sweet. He couldn't dress in another jacket; it just wouldn't be as warm. He couldn't ever kiss Wendy again; it wouldn't be the same love. He couldn't go on…he needed Kyle…but why? Stan stopped his train of thoughts, then. For he feared that if he continued to answer his own questions that he would find a most disturbing conclusion. He didn't want to find the answer if that was it. He didn't want to be his real self if it meant giving Kyle up.

This wasn't peer pressure, it wasn't giving into the crowd; if Stan were…"that way"…for Kyle…it wouldn't matter what others thought. Not to Stan, it wouldn't. But clearly it meant so much more to Kyle and Stan could never change that. He didn't want to either. Because he didn't love Kyle. He couldn't love Kyle. He wouldn't. He slowly sank and sat down on the floor, boarding his chin up in his knees and wondered why his heart felt like it was breaking.


	10. There For A While, And This I Know

Kyle entered the kitchen; it was already around noon. He was ashamed at how he had let the whole day practically waste away just so he could sulk at how confused he had been. He sighed but his breath got caught up in his throat when he spotted Stan sitting at the kitchen table. Their eyes met for the first time since they had kissed; it was so uncomfortable Kyle was quite sure that he had come downstairs completely naked. He blushed and walked towards Stan, and went to make a sharp turn towards the cupboards, but Stan grabbed his wrist before Kyle could rush by him. Kyle looked to Stan with wide eyes; he was terrified again…terrified that Stan would kiss him again. Stan did not look at him, though, his charcoal hair painting a dark shadow over his eyes as he looked down to the floor.

Kyle's eyes were low and sympathetic, although Stan would not know. Kyle could clearly see Stan was upset, and Kyle wasn't about to ask why. Before Kyle could object to Stan's grip tightening around his thin wrist Stan told him in a murmur, "Just…forget what happened."

Kyle was taken aback by this. What just happened? He was gone for…an hour? Hour and a half and suddenly Kyle has to erase the curiously fond memory of Stan kissing him? Kyle began to ask, "…wh—"

Stan interrupted, though, "Just…let's act like it didn't happen. Then everything can be the same as before, right?"

Kyle's unbalanced mood was washed away and replaced with a deep sadness. Why was he sad though? He…he didn't know. He replied, "I…I guess…are you—"

"Good. I'm glad." Stan muttered as he let go of Kyle's wrist

Kyle was extremely concerned now as Stan rose, his face still not completely revealed to Kyle. Kyle went out to reach for Stan, but Stan immediately turned to him with the fakest smile and tears being held back as he added, "I'm really glad. So…what are you making for me? Heh, you know I can't cook, so I've kinda been waiting for you. Do you want me to shower first or something? Or did you use up the hot water?"

Kyle was grossed out by the plastic, humored sound of Stan's voice. Kyle played along, though. He figured it would only pain Stan further to press him with questions he clearly did not want to answer. Kyle told him, "Uh…no problem, dude. You can shower first, there should still be hot water…then you can take one of my sweaters and jeans or something if you want."

Stan's mind suddenly flooded with images of snooping around Kyle's boxers and what they usually contained. He shook his head, as if hoping that the thoughts would fall to the floor. He turned away, quickly running far from the Jew and all of the trouble he was causing Stan before calling to him, "Thanks, I will then!"

Stan knew Kyle didn't know. Didn't know the harsh treatment Kyle put him through. He knew it wasn't Kyle's fault that Kyle was so graceful, so honest, true and perfect. He knew it wasn't Kyle's fault that he made for a perfect companion. That was all he could ask of Kyle, though. That was all he wanted. It was all he could want from Kyle. He could never ask for anything more. Because if he asked for more he would lose everything he had. And Stan was scared of being alone, he was scared of having to walk this Earth completely on his own. He knew no matter if Wendy Testaburger walked by him, if his parents held to his shoulders as he strode, if all of America dubbed him the most loved above all others he would still feel completely alone if Kyle wasn't there. And he couldn't stand that.

Kyle stood where Stan left him. Kyle wondered what the Hell had just happened. Stan was upset. That meant Kyle was too. Kyle rubbed his temples as he let escape a gasp that helped hold back tears. Kyle was not a quick-crier…in fact, the last time he cried was when he was tricked into believing Stan was dead in the sixth grade. It seemed like such a long time ago. He stared at nothing, just wondered why Stan's eyes were filled with tears. He wondered what he had done wrong. What he did to deserve this. He didn't know and he assumed he never would. Had he just lost him? Was that the only warning? There were no second chances? Stan could barely look Kyle in the eyes, ran away from him, had to hide his real emotions…he had really lost him. Kyle's eyes flooded with tears as his hands sprung from their position on his head. He ran to the stairs but when he was about to call out Stan's name desperately, he realized he was too scared to call him back. Too scared to see how much Stan had changed in the hour and a half Kyle had been gone.

Kyle's eyes shined like gold, highlighted by the thick tears that begged to fall onto his cheeks. He could only look up the stairs, refusing his tongue and throat to interact and call out to Stan. His legs wanted to run up the stairs and barge through the door and take Stan in his arms no matter how decent he was. He didn't want to lose Stan…not like this, not for some stupid…no. That kiss wasn't stupid. And Kyle knew he wouldn't forget it. And he knew Stan wouldn't either. Kyle remembered how soft Stan felt against him, their hands blanketed in each other's hair, their chests pressed against each other so closely that they could feel each other's hearts racing and bumping against them. He tried to memorize the feeling of Stan's kiss traveling past his lips and treating him in a way he had never known before. He realized he had never been so close to a human body. Sure, he had hugged his parents, he had kissed the cheeks of relatives and he had fallen asleep next to Stan, but…this was different.

It felt like it was the first time he had ever felt connected to anything. It felt as if his heart had been witness it would have guided him by saying, "That's right." He felt now as if he couldn't even shake the hand of Stan without implying something incorrectly. He didn't want Stan. Not like that. He would never doubt that. He would never question that. He didn't love Stan in that way. So there was nothing to fear. There was nothing to doubt. No matter how hard his heart pushed for him to scream and cry desperately for his best friend to return to him, he wouldn't give in. He would stand tall with dignity until the surely bittersweet end he knew this situation would meet. Bittersweet because Kyle knew that it could only end two ways. One way, they would grow to be comfortable with each other again, but they would never be as they were. Each silence would be an awkward one, they would never be able to share secrets…their relationship would be forever changed. The second way, though, was worse; much worse. The second way, they would never grow to be comfortable again and these next three days would be their last together.

Kyle gripped the railing so tightly his knuckles shown white, but he soon let the tension die in his muscles. He still refused to let fall any tears as he silently promised himself that he would let Stanley Marsh go.

The next days were filled with uncomfortable silences, and each hour felt to the both of them as if they were slowly been torn further and further apart. There was very little talking, for if they spoke they would awkwardly overlap each other or accidentally interrupt. This was one of the little details that upset Kyle the most; they had lost their natural rhythm. Kyle wished over and over, inwardly of course, that he could look at Stan. Stare Stan in the eyes with pride and humor so they could be strong again. But every time he tried, Stan would return his gaze and Kyle would drop his eyes. He didn't know why; he felt shattered whenever his former best friend would look to him. Look to him as if it were his fault, look to him as if he were in pain and Kyle was the only one who could save him. Kyle was the only one who could help, but it still wouldn't have been enough. This pained Kyle to no end.

Stan tried to replace images of Kyle in his mind's eyes with Wendy, but it only hurt to try and have someone take his place. Stan found some odd comfort, though, in the fact that Incubus was right; love did hurt. Stan soon learned that Kyle was quite frightened to look him in the eyes and when the day came that the soot-like fog passed and sunlight entered through the windows, revealing two feet of snow Stan had a feeling it was his last chance to say good-bye. Stan's parents were home, although they couldn't pick him up. He was going to walk home; he knew it would be no trouble normally, but now, with his heart heavy as stone, his lungs useless and his mind distracted with thoughts of Kyle Broflovski, it could be the hardest, longest travel he'd ever taken home. Both him and Kyle stood in front of the door, Stan's hand gripped the knob tightly before turning it.

His brain reminded him that this was probably the last time he would face Kyle again. He knew he was causing Kyle pain with his simple presence. He never wanted to mean pain to Kyle. Never. He only wanted Kyle to be happy. So he turned around and with a more well-acted smile he uttered, "Thank you, Kyle."

Those three words were all he could think of to say. He would've liked to have elaborated, but his words would hit Kyle and pain him further. The less he said, the better; the shorter the awkward silences, and the shorter awkward good-bye. Kyle replied softly, "Don't mention it, Stan."

There were no more "dude"s or colorful, joking insults. That would be too informal from where they stood now. Because although there were no more than two feet apart, they were two million light years away from one another. Their expressions were well painted and would probably fool anyone on the streets, but they could both tell that each other was in intense pain. But they needed to save each other. Kyle needed to rid himself from Stan to save Stan from doubt and confusion, and Stan needed to leave Kyle to free him from worry and despair. This was all they could do for each other. This was all they could ever ask of each other. And they both knew this was their unhappy ending. Stan turned on an angle a little before murmuring, "Well…thanks, again…I'll see you at school."

They both knew that they wouldn't speak in school, but nevertheless Kyle replied, "Yeah. Bye."


	11. There's A Place That We Can Go, A Place

The next day they were in school. Classes refused them any time together and when Stan was sitting in Global History he could only reminisce. He remembered how Kenny had entered with a look so sincerely concerned and told him how Kyle had apparently asked for him in his time of illness. That made his heart throb in pain against his chest. His heart had been leaking since he left Kyle's house the other day. It practically begged him to end his currently painful existence, but he knew this would pass. Or…at least he hoped it would. He looked around the room, his chin rested comfortably in his palm. He looked around the room at all of these pathetic, lonely people. He had never known them to be lonely; they all had family, they all had friends, but they didn't have friends like Kyle. And that made them lonely to Stan.

To Stan it appeared as a room of blank children watching a blank man teach them about faceless, blank people. Stan's eyes widened in horror as he looked to the somehow muted blank man at the front of the room. Was he one them now? Was he blank, faceless and alone? Without Kyle…without Kyle…

He looked to the clock, a strange panic striking him; he wanted to run. He didn't know why, he just felt like leaving someone in the dust. Perhaps to move his jittery yet stiff muscles, or to give him something to distract him from the pain. The image of running made him remember Kyle. Kyle had started track at the end of elementary school and he had been hooked ever since. Always running when he had the chance; his legs had grown strong, but thin. His body was still somewhat boney, thin and still kind of pale despite the amount of sun he got running outside during the year. He remembered one occasion when he had gone to see Kyle run. Kyle didn't invite him; Kyle hadn't wanted Stan to come. He was embarrassed in the short, shiny shorts he had to wear and the long embarrassing socks with color-coordinated sweatbands.

He tried to recall the hour, the day, maybe the month, but he couldn't. He didn't really care either. He did remember, however, the bob of Kyle's curls as he sped by. He remembered the slight chill in the air; ice plotted randomly around the track created a fog for Kyle's breath. Kyle's eyes were sharp and seemed a smokier version than usual and they seemed dry. The wind that Kyle created with his speed rushed through his silk curls and his long lashes; ran against his cold face and weakened his knees, but he kept running. Stan wondered why. The cold must have hit him like thousands of little needles along his frame, the cold air must have filled his lungs painfully and his eyes must have wished for eye drops but he continued to run. Kyle's cheeks were plastered with blotches of red here and there, his nose matched the rosy shade and his chest pumped the icy air in and out and it tortured Stan to simply watch.

Kyle kept running, though. To this day he ran that track, no matter how cold or painful it may be. Stan realized then that he was proud. Kyle was brave.

"Mr. Marsh?"

Stan looked up to the blank man before him just as the bell rang and he quickly exited without a second glance. He happily jogged off to lunch. He saw the table he usually sat at which held Cartman, Kenny, Kyle, Butters, Token, Wendy, Bebe, Clyde, Craig, Pip, Heidi, and Esther. Stan joined them eagerly, awaiting a filling lunch. He sat down, settling his books on the table, but the moment he was about to start a conversation with Cartman and Kenny who sat opposite of him Wendy sat directly next to him. She was shoulder to shoulder with him and handed him a folded piece of paper. He recognized it as a passing-note and wondered why she couldn't simply tell him what it was she wanted to say, but he knew girls worked in mysterious ways and did not argue. She smiled and ran her hand suggestively down his arm before returning to the group of girls she usually hung around on the other side of the table.

He opened it up and it smelled of sweet perfume. It informed him that she wanted to see him this week. She did not want to speak about it in front of anyone, though, as she was currently dating one of the extremely sensitive Goth kids and would probably be followed if someone heard that she was going to meet up with Stan. She set up dates at the bottom of the paper for him to circle and told him to hand it back to her at the very end of the lunch period.

"What'd she give you?" Cartman asked suspiciously

Stan looked to the fat boy and snarled, "As if it's any of your business, fat ass."

"I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!"

"marnflughtehjuh" Kenny chuckled

Stan laughed and added, "Yeah, you're mom's a slut, Cartman."

"SHUT UP, FAGGOTS!"

Stan then saw something he had never noticed before and it made him want to laugh and cry. He saw Cartman's expression melt, his scowl sank into a shy pout, his eyes softened and he flustered ever so lightly as Kyle sat down next to him. Kyle opened one of his notebooks and began working away on math equations; wearing his thick-rimmed glasses that constantly slid down his nose since they broke them the year before. He sighed as he would turn away every few moments and type loudly on a calculator so quickly it was hard to follow his fingers. Stan saw for the first time in all this time…Cartman was mesmerized by their scrawny Jewish friend…for some reason Stan was angry. He didn't know why, it wasn't as if Kyle was his or anything. It wasn't as if he could call dibs on Kyle; maybe it wasn't anger, but shock that all the ridiculing was out of infatuation. It made Stan green with envy, though.

He needed to speak out, somehow show how angry he was…

"Uhm, dude, why the hell are you ogling Kyle?" Stan seethed to Cartman

Cartman turned beet red and roared, "What?! You faggot! I'm not ogling Kyle! He's usin' his Jew-magic on me! I swear, I didn't know!"

Kyle turned to Cartman with a glare and retorted, "There's no such thing as Jew-magic, asshole!"

Cartman turned to Kenny and muttered loudly enough for Kyle to hear, "See? He's tryin' to hypnotize me with his Jew-magic."

Kyle growled and shouted again, "Shut up, fat boy!"

"EY! I'm not fat! I'm big-boned!"

"marnflughtehjuh" Kenny interjected

Kyle laughed and said, "Heh…yeah, you're mom's a slut, Cartman."

"SHUT UP!"

Stan looked to Wendy, then to Kyle and asked softly and awkwardly, "Uhm…did you do something?"

Kyle looked up to him, then to Wendy and he replied, "I really didn't have to do much to convince her."

Stan flustered and told him, "Thanks…this means a lot."

Kyle blushed a little before he pushed the arch of his glasses further up his nose and told him, "It's really no problem…really, don't mention it."


	12. Where I Can Finally Let You Know

Stan circled the date at the bottom of the paper that caused him the least amount of trouble; seven days he had. Seven days, after the two-day Chrismas break, at her house. Stan sighed. He was supposed to hang out with Kyle on Thursday; they were supposed to have a sleep over for that whole weekend since Kyle's parents were going away to attend a wedding of a far-off cousin. Stan thought that after the whole fiasco at Kyle's house this week, he would no longer wish for Stan's company. Especially for that long, alone. He looked to Kyle working away at his math. There was his former best friend, sitting beside a secret admirer and not sending him one glance. Hiding his silk, crimson curls, lowering his glassy, jade eyes; tucking away his perfect adam's apple in his orange and green jacket. Stan glared to Cartman.

_Fat ass._

He thought angrily. Cartman wasn't really fat anymore, he wasn't thin or fit really, he was just thick. Nevertheless the boys had continued to torture him about his weight no matter how thin he became. They did not plan to stop either, as Cartman clearly did not plan on stopping. Stopping his asshole antics, that is. Cartman suddenly passed a note to Stan, sliding it across the table. They were the only ones who noticed as Kyle was consumed by work and Kenny was being consumed by girls on the other side of the table. Stan opened it up.

_Do you like Kyle?_

Stan shot his face up to glare to Cartman, but Cartman looked dead-serious. Stan and him held eye contact for a long while and Stan could see now that Cartman would not announce it and he would not be cruel in any way if Stan so chose to say yes. Stan wrote a blunt "No" on the paper as a response; Cartman threw it back at him a few moments later. It read,

_Your lying. I see you staring at him and whatever. If you tell him what I know you know I swear to God you won't see tomorrow._

Stan let it sink to the table as he snarled, "What the Hell is that supposed to mean, fat ass?"

Cartman snatched the paper from the center of the table and crumpled it. He threw it in the garbage behind him and returned Stan's glare. He replied softly,

"What do you mean, Stan? I didn't say anything."

Stan heard Kyle ask, "What's happening, you two?"

Both boys looked to Kyle. Kyle's eyes were wide and curious, an invisible smile curling the very tips of his lips. There was a fluster from the cold air patched on his face, his head tilted to the side. His Ushanka tilted with him, the flaps moving slightly and revealing his silky curls. Both Cartman and Stan blushed at the adorable sight. Kyle asked again, a little more concerned,

"…are you guys okay?"

Cartman immediately gripped Kyle's weak, thin hand that rested on his papers. Kyle looked to his hand and Cartman quickly and curiously as he inquired, "What's going on, Cartman?"

Cartman scratched out as if racing against Stan; as if Stan would interrupt him.

"I need to see you after school, Kyle!"

Stan watched as red formed in Kyle's cheeks and a small smile formed on his lips. His soft, velvet lips that had haunted all of Stan's dreams the night prior. The lips he could still recall pressing against his as if it were wrong, but still desperate to let more of Stan in. He remembered how they felt on him, how warm, soft and pungent his lips felt. Why were those lips painting a smile? Why was he smiling at Cartman? He should smile at Stan, not Cartman. It made Stan boil with jealousy as Kyle replied softly with a short crack in his voice,

"Cartman…that's the first time you've said my name without making it sound like you were mocking me. That's the first time you've said my name right…"

Cartman flustered quickly as Kyle returned his hand's grip and added, "Thanks, dude. And…sure, of course I could meet you after school. Where do you wanna meet?"

Cartman seemed relieved as he told Kyle, "At the bus stop…is that okay?"

Kyle seemed charmed by this unfamiliar insecurity in his fair-weather friend. Kyle nodded positively, so unknowing. Stan's jaw was dropped as Kyle looked to him and asked awkwardly, "…is…is there something wrong, Stan?"

Stan glared to Cartman who did nothing but subtly wink to him. Stan growled, returning his gaze to Kyle, "Kyle…"

Stan settled his hand on the edge of the table, throwing his body in the air and landing on the bench of the opposite side. He looked to Kyle, stepped down and tugged Kyle into an embrace. Cartman cocked an eyebrow as Stan begged, "Kyle, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything and I don't want to think about it ever again. I just want to be as close as we used to…so please, please forget about what happened…I miss you, dude."

Kyle blushed against Stan's shoulder and hesitated before he rose his arms and returned Stan's embrace. Kyle buried his face into Stan's neck, unintentionally setting dirty images in motion in Stan's mind before replying, "I already forgot, dude…"

Stan tried to ignore the images swimming through his mind and held to Kyle as if it were for the first time in ten years. Kyle soon uttered, "Dude…I can't breathe…"

Stan let go then. The day progressed as usual, classes were boring and Stan found himself daydreaming of Kyle during Math. He quickly pushed through the crowds of children to get home; eager to collapse on his couch and sort out his feelings by himself. The moment he went outside, though, he spotted Kyle walking towards the bus stop where Cartman stood alone, waiting. Stan, clouded by jealous possessiveness, snuck behind him. He hid behind bushes and trees as he followed Kyle until the point he approached Cartman, asking innocently, "Hey, Cartman."

Cartman looked to Kyle with reddened cheeks, although it may have been from the cold. Cartman greeted back, "Hey, Kyle."

Once Kyle was directly in front of Cartman he asked kindly, "So…was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Cartman told him softly, "Yeah…uhm…"

He looked up to Kyle, as did Stan. Kyle's eyes were as they had been at lunch. Wide and curious, kind and patient; always willing to wait and listen, no matter who it was speaking. No matter if they betrayed him time and time again, or if they were the closest to his heart; he was always there to help. Cartman blushed, looking down to his foot that kicked some snow aside. He continued to utter fragments that held no meaning. Kyle asked, tilting his head cutely again,

"What's wrong?"

Cartman looked up to Kyle's encouraging eyes and dropped his eyes again. He murmured, "If I could show you what I meant…instead of telling you…would that be okay?"

Kyle flustered as he nodded and hummed positively. It was strange; Cartman not talking as if he were mocking everyone, Cartman asking questions as if he felt embarrassed. This was foreign to Kyle, but it was a nice change. Cartman stepped forward; Stan's heart skipped a beat. Kyle seemed indifferent as he stood face to face with Cartman. Both were the same height; they were the tallest of the group. Kenny ended up being the shortest, but they imagined it probably had to do with all of the physical trauma his body took. Stan had always found the few inches more Kyle had than him were very endearing. Stan watched in horror as Cartman leaned forward, stretched his arms out and bolted his hands on Kyle's shoulders. Kyle looked to both of his shoulders, then back to Cartman and asked something inaudible. Stan had thought his heart stopped, when he watched Cartman finally meet his lips with Kyle's.

Kyle didn't fight off Cartman, though, and Cartman being as new to it as Kyle was when he first kissed Stan, he did not move past his lips. Cartman soon moved away from Kyle. Kyle stood shocked at first, but then his expression softened to Cartman's comfort. Kyle took Cartman's dropped hands in his gently, leaned forward and kissed Cartman's cheek gently. Stan wanted to jump out of the bushes then and beat Cartman until he cried blood, but he held himself down to hear what Kyle would tell him. Kyle's soft, low eyes were merciful as his smile was sympathetic. He told Cartman sensitively, "I'm flattered, Eric…really, I am, but…I'm already in love with someone."

Cartman asked curiously, "…who?"

Kyle's eyes tilted as his brows knitted sadly and he replied still smiling softly, "Someone I can't be, nor want to be with."

Cartman called after Kyle as he went to walk away, "But, Kyle…why wouldn't you try to be with someone else if you can't be with them?"

Kyle didn't look back as replied, "I'm sorry, Eric…it just…hurts when I try to replace them."

Cartman stood silent at the bus stop as Kyle walked away. Stan would've felt bad for Cartman if he hadn't been such an ass all these years. Stan snuck away, following Kyle until Cartman could no longer see them. Stan slowly moved onto the sidewalk and continued to walk behind Kyle for a few minutes before announcing his presence by saying, "Hey, Kye."

_That nickname…_ Kyle thought to himself as he turned around in surprise

"Oh, hey."


	13. I Hope You Find Whatever You'd Been

**Hiya****, guys…I'm back! ****Heh****, for a while, I ****kinda**** lost inspiration so I stopped writing…but honestly, today I saw a review from ****pheonixdreams**** and I felt ****soo**** bad ****TTnTT****. It's just nice to know that your audience cares a lot, I guess. So…I'm back and here's your latest chapter. Thanks for all the support, guys.**

"What's up?" Stan asked casually

Kyle sighed, revealing nothing by replying, "Not much. Where did you just come from?"

"Eh…oh, I…I saw you walking from school and I figured I'd catch up with you. Where are you headed to?" Stan quickly stammered

"Oh, I'm…nowhere. I guess…home…"

Stan cocked an eyebrow and asked suspiciously, "…home?...Kye, I know when you're lying."

Kyle inwardly cursed and turned to Stan with a very serious expression; "Fine. Promise you won't laugh?"

Stan shook his head positively, although this was very unlike Kyle. Kyle didn't usually have requests like that; well, usually he didn't have requests for Stan. Stan nodded, though and waited for Kyle to sigh and say, "I'm…I'm going to North Park. Our school is having a competition with them…it's an academic sort of competition, so no one really cares. I'm in it, though…"

Stan smirked, "That's all? I thought you were…like gonna go hide a body or something, dude."

Kyle seemed shocked as Stan laughed and rose his voice an octave, "What?! Of course not! I'm representing South Park…I'm nervous, though…but the competition isn't for another week."

Stan looked away. It was another week until he spoke with Ms. Wendy Testaburger. He didn't mention it, though.

"You shouldn't be nervous, Kye…you're like…the smartest person I know."

Kyle chuckled and told Stan, "Yeah, well, your crowd isn't exactly made of math club members."

Stan snorted and agreed. Stan suddenly asked, though, "Hey…you never told me where you were going."

Kyle looked at him, "Oh…well, I'm going to North Park…they're high school. Apparently people in North Park are actually paying bills and stuff, so their school is really fancy and whatever."

"So you're going to see the high school?"

"Basically…I should find out what I want to wear." Kyle added

Stan looked at him in wonderment, "…what?"

"You know, like…if I go and see what the playing area is going to look like, then I'll know what colors to where."

"…how?"

"I'll be able to figure out if I'll clash or not."

Stan laughed, "You're so weird, dude."

Kyle smirked, but didn't argue. When the point came that Stan was going to part ways with Kyle he decided not to. He had missed Kyle, although it had only been so long since they were in one house together. That was different, though. They might as well have been completely by themselves those three days. When Kyle said good-bye to Stan, Stan refused to leave and jogged to catch up with him. He told Kyle that he wanted to join him on his journey to North Park high school. Kyle did not protest. As they walked things seemed to be normal again. Conversation was normal, stupid nicknames were utilized to their fullest extent, jokes were made and they were comfortable. As long as that kiss was far from their minds, they were comfortable. They were happy.

Once they arrived in North Park Kyle took out a folded piece of paper, apparently containing directions to North Park high school. Stan made a short joke about Kyle's over-awareness, and over-preparation. They eventually found the school and made their way into the extravagant auditorium. It had a large stage and hundreds of red, cushiony chairs in the audience. One side of the stage had a sign hanging and it said "South Park High School" and the other said, "North Park High School". Stan watched as Kyle approached the stage as if he were approaching his Messiah. He went up to the stage's edge; the floor of the stage reached his chest. He flung his leg over and stepped onto the polished wood. His footsteps echoed as he looked around with sparkling eyes. He looked to Stan with a soft, gentle smile; his eyes lit up like Christmas as he stated, "This is too cool…"

Stan asked, "What's so great about it?"

Kyle sat down at the edge of the stage as Stan approached it, Kyle told him, "Because…Stan…if I win this for the school…I might…I might get a scholarship."

Stan perked his eyebrows. He didn't like that word. He didn't like it at all. He didn't like Kyle to think of that word, and he certainly didn't like that Kyle was already thinking of college. He hated college; he had never even had an experience at a college, but he knew he hated them. He hated them because they were sure to tear away Kyle. They were going to take Kyle away from him and throw him out into the world of adults, careers and success. They were going to take Kyle's brain, throbbing with knowledge and say "Finder's Keeper's" and suck him out into that world that Stan could never see himself a part of. It was a realm of bad parenting skills, regrets and cold, inhumane behavior. Stan faked a smile, though and told him, "Wow…that's…that's great."

Kyle wasn't smiling, he actually appeared rather solemn when he replied, "…I'm pretty scared…I kind of hope I lose…but…I have to try."

Stan smiled sadly. Kyle didn't want to grow up either. If they could have, they would have remained this age for the rest of their lives. Never knowing a back ache or bad knees or bad eyes. They would never have families, they would keep going to school, so they'd have something to complain about. They would always say things like, "dude", "screw you", "uncle-fucker" and "you fucking Jew", although the last one was usually only used by Cartman. They would always be willing to go outside and play, always laugh at fart jokes and they would always be able to forgive each other when the other messes up their relationship. Whether with a lie or a kiss. They would never have to walk away, they would never need excuses for their actions, they would never be bothered by the real world of responsibility and danger. They could just fall asleep on the couch watching old movies for the rest of their nights together. That would be perfect.

"Yeah…you…you want me to come?" Stan asked cautiously

Kyle looked up to him with something akin to fascination. He shook his head negatively, though and replied, "No…it's okay, I know you're seeing Wendy when I'll be here."

Stan widened his eyes, "How did you know about that?"

"Dude," Kyle began, "I'm the one that fixed you guys up. I know you well enough to figure out what day you'd pick to see her."

Stan smiled. Kyle never changed.

"Huh…" Stan hesitated then smirked and added, "…so…will you clash?"

Kyle laughed and explained, "Nope, with the only colors being the South Park school colors and the curtains red, I'll be fine."

Stan grinned. This was nice. Standing there with Kyle laughing at stupid jokes. He couldn't ask Kyle to stay there. He couldn't keep Kyle for himself. So he could only ask Kyle of this. This is all he could ever ask of him. To laugh and try. Stan hoped that someday…maybe someday, he'd be able to ask a little more…


	14. Lookin' For, Just Remember Where You're

Stan got home rather late and was consumed by homework. He remembered how he had hoped he could take that afternoon to sort out his feelings, but his schedule got all mumbled up from following Kyle and homework. He ended up so tired, he could barely think straight while he changed into pajamas. When he woke up, he showered, threw on a red turtleneck sweater, some dyed out blue jeans and black army-like boots. He took his books and raced off to school after throwing his black pea-coat on. Classes were boring as ever, always allowing him to drift off into daydreams. At first he didn't know exactly who he was daydreaming of. Usually it was Kyle, but he had been trying to move Wendy there. Let her take over his mind like she used to…but now…he could hardly tell the difference. He slumped his chin in his palm as he blankly stared at the Global History teacher.

He tried to replace Kyle-related thoughts; replace them with Wendy. He tried to imagine what it would be like on their first time. He wasn't sure if he was staring straight when he imagined lying Wendy down on his bed and running his tongue over the peak of her breast; his brain, as if trying to tell him it hated him, replaced her with Kyle. His mind closed in on Kyle's tightly shut eyes, furiously red cheeks and partially parted lips; his mind echoed with the sound of Kyle's reluctant cross of a groan and whimper of pleasure. Stan gulped to himself before absentmindedly falling off his palm and letting his face slam right onto the table. He heard chuckling and giggling as he quickly picked his head up with a loud intake of breath. He tried to fix invisible stray hairs on his forehead as his teacher asked;

"Stan…are you okay?"

Stan was red of face, his mind still revisiting the alluring image. He probably looked like he was being treated intimately beneath the table right then; it disgusted even him how much pleasure he collected from those miniscule, momentary glimpses of sensual images. He shook his head negatively and replied,

"Nuh-yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Fine, I'm fine. I didn't mean like "no", I meant like "no, I'm fine" like…not…uhm…yeah, I'm fine."

Stan was not the most graceful with words, but that was possibly the most uncouth display of language he had ever uttered. How did Kyle do that to him? How was it that even when Kyle was far from him, that the mere thought of him drove Stan to this moronic state? Kyle didn't need to say anything, dress any certain way or touch him in any way; his existence alone sent Stan up the walls. He questioned that perhaps he was losing his mind to the other boy.

"Well…be careful." The teacher said cautiously; what else could he say, after all?

Stan raced off to lunch afterwards, gladly awaiting the sight of his Jewish friend scripting away at loose-leaf. He sat down beside Kenny; the blonde boy looked to him and smiled viciously. He inched over to Stan and asked, "Hey, you heard that Cartman asked Kyle out?"

Stan nodded, then Kenny added, "Good thing he turned him down."

"Why?" Stan asked on reflex

Kenny smirked again. Stan didn't know what to read from it. Kenny was either implying it was good because now Stan had a chance or it was good because now Kenny had a chance. He couldn't read it. He leaned a little closer and asked, "…do you…do you like Kyle too, Kenny?"

Kenny chuckled, cocking a brow before asking, "You scared of competition?"

Stan flustered; his chest flooding with envy again as he shot up out of his seat. He glared with shock writ across his face, "W-What?!?! You too!?!?"

Kenny smiled evilly again as Kyle sat down at the table. He was sitting beside Cartman again as he looked to them innocently and asked; "What are you guys fighting about?"

Stan couldn't believe it. Here he was, one table in the whole cafeteria, the whole town, the whole state, the whole world where all the boys had a secret desire burning in them. They all looked to Kyle Broflovski identically. Their bodies ached for Kyle's touch, their ears cried for his soft voice, and their hearts were all hungry for Kyle's. How? How did this happen? When? Why?

"We're not fighting about anything, Kyle, don't worry." Kenny responded sweetly

Kyle nodded and hummed in acceptance. Stan sat down again and looked to Kenny through the corner of is eye. He asked in a murmur covered by the volume of the cafeteria; "Kenny…don't you like girls, though?"

Kenny leaned in a little closer and told him, "I bounce either way."

"What?"

Kenny smiled, "Come on, Stan…we're all fucked up. We grew up in South Park."

Stan stared in wonderment; he broke out of the trance only when he heard Kyle's voice;

"Dude, can you hang out after school?"

Stan looked to Kyle; "…uhm…any particular reason?"

Stan didn't want to right out tell him that he just wanted to go home to sort out his sexuality. He didn't want Kyle to think he was troubled, he only wanted Kyle to be happy. It was Tuesday, meaning the next day they didn't have school; it would be Christmas eve, and the day after was Christmas, then it was Friday. He sighed; he had time. Kyle replied, "Nope…I just…I just had fun with you yesterday."

Stan blushed cutely as looked up to Kyle. Kyle appreciated it. He loved to see Stan being bashful and timid; it was unlike him. Stan stammered, "O-oh…well, then…then s-sure. I can chill."

Kyle smiled and told him, "I'm glad."

Stan looked away; why was he jealous? Competition? Wait, what? What was happening? Stan glared to his clutched fists…

I don't like Kyle. I'm not jealous…this isn't a competition including me. This is between Cartman and Kenny…not me…not me.

He looked to Kyle laughing at some joke Cartman made. He was so…so…infuriatingly perfect. His smile was almost corny in its straightness and pearl whiteness; his freckles were spread befittingly like sprinkled cinnamon. His curls were silky smooth under his always clean Ushanka; his body was strong, tall and carved to attract the desire of any living creature. His emerald eyes glowing as if mutated with evil, alien acid that bore holes into Stan's subconscious. Kyle Broflovski would surely be the end of him. But maybe…that was all he could ask of him.


	15. From 'N Who You Are, There's 1000 Lights

When exiting the school building, Stan was greeted by Kyle. It had made him blush; he had just exited the school doors and seen Kyle just a little far off, smiling—perhaps laughing happily to him and waving like some child eager to visit Disney. Stan caught up to him, returning Kyle's ecstatic expression. Stan asked curiously, "What're you so happy about, Kye?"

"I've got plans for us! I'm taking you to somewhere I think you'll really like."

Stan realized that Kenny and Cartman walking alongside each other back at the entrance of the school were glaring to him as Kyle gripped his hand and dragged him off. They boarded the bus and no matter what language he asked it in or what words he used, Kyle would not reveal where they were headed to. Kyle took him off at a certain point and Stan soon found that they were back in North Park.

"What are we doing here again?"

"Not telling, just come on with me!" Kyle chirped

Stan went to go step onto the next sidewalk, but he was very suddenly blinded.

"K-Kye, what are you doing?!" Stan replied to Kyle's grip over his eyes

"I don't want you to guess! We're close."

Stan blushed furiously; why was Kyle being so cute? Stan was quite sure it'd be too much for him soon. Kyle's silky hands running over his body, Kyle's body pressed up against his back; Stan complied, though, and allowed himself to be led to wherever he was being taken to. Soon enough they came to a stop and Kyle chuckled expectantly and announced, "We're here, ya ready?"

Stan smirked and sneered jokingly, "I've been ready since dismissal."

Kyle's warm palms left his eyes and forehead to reveal a large, stone building. It was a type of library. Stan glared and shamelessly wondered aloud, "…Kye…you honestly took me to a library? Have you ever known me?"

Kyle laughed and etched a dark blush on Stan's face by linking their arms and leading him up the stone steps while saying, "No, Stan…you'll like it, trust me."

Stan followed him in and was amazed to find that it was no library at all; it was a museum. Filled. Filled with sculptures made of books, papers, poems and all the sorts. Pages were ripped out of books and all, creating a museum filled with statues, portraits and other arts. Stan looked around in wonderment, then back to Kyle. Kyle must have seen the amazement shining in Stan's eyes as Stan tried to say, "H-how…?"

Kyle grinned looking to Stan all-knowingly and replied, "I know you hate books, and I found this museum filled with art that rebels against all written art. I thought it'd be something you could relate to. I mean…I'm kind of dead on the inside here, but" Kyle paused to laugh, "but I knew you'd want to see it."

Stan blushed and smiled; Kyle never changed.

Him and Kyle spent the whole day in that museum, spending a lot of the time trying to decipher what was left of glossed-over words, or painted-words and sculptures made of poetry and bibles. It was all Stan could imagine; it amazed him. Stan forgot how much fun they could have with each other; he remembered that thought when bursting out into laughter after hearing a completely politically incorrect joke Kyle made. In the museum Stan found a favorite sculpture; it was a fairly large skull and it was made of bible scraps, all glossed over, but still legible. All in all it was a wonderful afternoon and Stan couldn't believe he almost didn't go. The sun was already setting when they headed home.

Again, he was consumed by homework, then sleep. Another day gone, another enemy gained. What was happening? How did Kenny like him too? It tired Stan just thinking about thinking about it. He was lying in his bed, wishing that morning would not come. He rested his head against his pillow and thought of Kyle again. Why was he so obsessed? Why? All this time he had been convincing himself he didn't think of Kyle that way, but the plain truth…the plain truth was that he did…

Christmas eve had arrived the next day, his entire family was over the house celebrating. The tree was lit up and shining in everyone's eyes. Stan was sitting down on the couch when to his surprise the doorbell rang. He stood up and opened it to greet Kyle Broflovski.

"Kyle?"

"Hey, man."

"What're you doing here?"

Kyle cocked a brow and replied, "As if you're not totally thrilled I'm here."

Stan blushed; it made him feel strange. It had sounded as if Kyle was flirting. He didn't react, though, as best he could.

"I-I am, but…why are you here?"

Kyle smiled as he removed his coat and Stan finally noticed the small box in his hands. Kyle looked to him with soft twinkling eyes and replied sweetly, "Dude…it's Christmas…"

Stan couldn't help but turn a few shades more red when Kyle shot the box into his air. It was small, blue with a red satin bow. Stan replied nervously, "But…Kye, Jews don't celebrate Christmas."

Kyle didn't grow any closer to Stan when he told him simply, "Yeah, but…this is an important day for you and your people, Stan, and…I want to share that with you."

Stan was overwhelmed with the cuteness and innocence Kyle's eyes poured out. He was so moved, in fact, that he shot forward and hugged Kyle so fiercely they fell to the floor. Stan smiled into Kyle's shoulder as he asked childishly, "When do the Jews celebrate Moses' journey? I'll celebrate it with you, Kye!"

Kyle chuckled awkwardly before telling Stan, "Ehm…heh, Stan, we don't exactly celebrate being banished to the desert for forty years."

Stan looked up to his best friend as Kyle smirked and asked, "So…do you want your present or not?"

Stan rose off of Kyle to retrieve his gift; immediately tearing the exterior apart to find a small sculpture. He looked to Kyle with saucer eyes and uttered, "…this…this isn't…"

Kyle grinned gallantly; "Costed me a whole year's worth of allowance."

It was the biblical sculpture of the skull he had so loved.

Him and Kyle spent the rest of the night laughing and sneaking eggnog up into Stan's room. Kyle left much later that night and told Stan he'd probably see him the day following. Stan was glad; Kyle was so perfect. But again, another day lost from thought. The next day would be no good either, for he'd be unpacking gifts in the morning and afternoon and cleaning the rest of the day. It was that night, though, that was so eventful…

He was pleased that he wouldn't have to go to school the next day and was about to fall into restful sleep when his cell phone started vibrated on his bedside table. He picked it up with a groan of annoyance. Kenny's voice rang on the other side…

"Stan!"

"Kenny? What do you want?" He asked groggily

"Oh God, Stan, you've gotta get over here!"

"What? What happened?"

"It's Kyle!"


	16. That'll Make You Feel Brand New, But If

"What? What happened?"

"It's Kyle!"

The urgency in his voice came again, just like that day of the dreaded poptarts. Stan's brain bruised in dizzy pain as he shot up right and demanded nervously, "What's going on?!"

"We…we all went to a bar together, cause Kyle and Cartman are tall enough to pull off an adult-look, and we got in! It was great until I stupidly told Kyle what I've been feeling and whatever…but he'd been drinking and I kissed him and…and…I was kinda wasted too, and I still sort of am, but I'm sobering up…and…and…"

"And what!?"

"I went back to dancing and ended up getting nasty with some skank and now he's gone!"

"What?"

"He left, I guess, I don't know where he is and Cartman's gone too!"

Stan's heart skipped a beat. The only thing that sounded threatening was Cartman being gone as well. Stan growled and jumped out of bed, slipping on shoes and telling Kenny,

"I'll be there soon; it's near Clyde's house, right?"

"Yeah."

With that Stan hung up but kept his phone on. No one saw or heard him leave the house, and it was a good thing too. First of all Stan's parents didn't know him and his friends had ever had a drink in their lives; second of all he was only in pajama pants and shoes out in the freezing cold and third of all his mother would have alerted the police and gotten the whole lot of them in trouble. He rushed out into the cold, his huffs turning into icy fog as he jet down the sidewalks, glancing either way all the while; looking for a red coat, a fat silhouette, a green Ushanka, a red curl, anything! He was running by what he thought was a bonfire, but slowed down when he saw one large silhouette over another small one, lying down on the snow.

Stan's chest wrenched as he raced over; so nervous he couldn't form words. It was Kyle and Cartman; it had to be. He was stretching upon the ground and eventually reached the icy pit where Cartman sat. He looked to the heavier boy angrily and finally snarled, "W-WHAT THE FUCK, C-CARTMAN!?"

Eric looked to him sorrowfully, his eyes fogged with intoxication. The Jew was unconscious and lying across his lap. A fire before them; Kyle's journals.

Stan glared, even when he noticed Cartman's streaks of tears.

"If I can't have him, I don't want anyone to."

Stan was repulsed; he felt sick, but it may have been from running in the freezing cold with no shirt on. He gripped Kyle's arm and in one swift moment swept him out of Cartman's hold. He heard Kyle murmur, "…S-Stan?"

"Yeah, it's me, dude."

Kyle didn't say anything coherent after that, though. Stan looked to Cartman and felt the anger rise even higher within him when Cartman continued to stare at the fire and utter, "If you were me…and read what was in there, you'd understand."

"No I wouldn't. I'm not a sick psycho who drugs his friend and sets his secrets on fire. You're a fucking freak and need help…Cartman…if you ever touch Kyle again…"

Stan's throat filled with angered bravery as he continued, "I swear to God you won't see tomorrow."

Stan tossed Kyle's thin, nearly weightless body over his shoulder and walked home. Cartman did not follow and Stan called Kenny on his way home. He told Kenny that he needed to learn responsibility and told him to stick to girls. Kenny, surprisingly enough, agreed. Stan felt bad; he could hear Kenny's heart broken in his voice over the fact that it was probably his fault that Kyle had been out there with Cartman alone. He didn't need to say it, though. Stan eventually made it home and decided he'd come up with an excuse as to why Kyle would be there tomorrow. When he entered his room he let Kyle down to his feet; Kyle wasn't really drunk, he was clearly drugged. Stan smiled sadly as Kyle looked to him with low, tired-like eyes.

Kyle blushed furiously and took a step closer to Stan; Stan did not move as Kyle progressed towards him. They were finally chest-to-chest when Kyle muttered in a hot breath, "…Stan…"

Stan would've replied had his lips not been covered by Kyle's. To say Stan was caught off guard would be an understatement; he was shocked. He was going to try to stop Kyle's advances, he was going to push him away and possibly beat the living shit out of him, but somehow never got to it. He just allowed Kyle's thin arms to wrap around his neck and let Kyle's dexterous fingers to rake through his charcoal hair. Soon enough, Kyle was taking his shirt off and Stan was beet red, but it was then that he stopped. He knew Kyle would most likely forget this by morning, and it was no use. He had a short daydream, imagining it was the morning after and Kyle would wake completely naked in a bed with Stan, possibly feeling sticky or wet.

When morning came Kyle was already awake. He turned over; thinking he was home in his comforter. He was surprised to find Stan's arm draped over him with his lips only inches away from Stan's. He stained his cheeks with red as he recalled that night. He could only remember blurred, quick moments, but they were certainly there and certainly real. He looked to the sleeping boy; his silk hair falling over the top of his head onto his pillow. His face was calm and stoic, his lips not parted in the least. Kyle's heart thumped louder in his chest as he slowly realized he was fascinated in tasting them. After all, what was the harm? Stan was asleep, and Kyle certainly knew he wasn't gay; it was all curiosity. He then remembered the quote "Curiosity killed the cat" and replaced it with "Curiosity killed the straight man." Then his brain starting playing "Video Killed The Radio Star" and he decided to stop his idiotic train of thought.

He leaned upwards a little and ran his tongue over Stan's full lips. He shifted so that his nose fit next to Stan's and continued to run his tongue over the boy's lack of expression. Stan's body slowly began to reply, feeling the welcomed sensation. Stan's sleeping body returned the actions, though slowly and calmly. Kyle thought of how it was so different from the last times he had kissed Stan. Stan was usually so dominant, and fast and strong. Kyle blushed even more furiously when he started yelling at himself for having memorized the feeling of Stan's kisses. He was scolding himself inwardly, but he also noted he was stilling kissing Stan. It was like he was being a hypocrite to himself, so all in all, he didn't really mind. He started accepting just how much he loved being like this with Stan.

He ran his hands up, hooking his hands under Stan's ears, brushing through his smoky hair and hungrily dominating the kiss. He broke away to catch his breath and saw the dark red in Stan's cheeks; then he moved his vision to the pillow. His red curls were leaking onto Stan's hair and their silky textures were making them run over each other like ice on ice. Kyle returned to Stan's sleeping pout and was suckling and lapping over his thick bottom lip when he heard Stan intake deeply. Kyle instantaneously moved away and waited for Stan to come to. His friend opened his ocean blue eyes and sighed a warm breath. He asked simply, "You okay?"

Kyle muttered in reply, "…yes…I'm fine. But…just…forget about last night, please…"

Stan's brows rose in surprise as his face darkened with red, "W-what? You remember last night?"

"J-just the important parts…"

Kyle rose out of the bed, stating deadpan, "We've got school. I'm gonna get home as fast as I can."

Stan rose and followed Kyle; standing behind him and realized somewhere within the last couple months he had grown taller than Kyle. He could smell the sweet scent of Kyle's hair radiating from their distance, or lack thereof. He sighed and thought for a moment…

A while ago, Stan had kissed this boy that stood before him. He had kissed him, passionately, trying to show the boy how he felt by using his body. Back then he couldn't word how he felt, and that fact remains. He was sick of this; this pathetic hiding and fear. It made him sick to the pit of his stomach. He felt like a coward to himself. He stepped forward, lifting his hand into Kyle's labyrinth of curls before making his decision…

"You wanted to kiss me, Kye…"

Kyle blushed, still not turning to face Stan as shivers shot down his back from Stan's hand running against the back of his neck…

"W-what? What do you mean? I told you to forget about it, I was drugged up…"

"Exactly," Stan began, "you were drugged up, yet you still said my name before you kissed me…you knew it was me…"

Kyle turned ten shades darker, if at all possible and snapped, "N-no! No I didn't, I was fucked up last night and you know it and I never would've done it had I not been drinking and been drugged!"

Stan leaned over, running his kiss-swollen, torrid lips over Kyle's ear, murmuring, "Cause you wouldn't have had the courage."

Kyle twisted around, his face a mixture of anguish and sorrow; "N-no! No I…no! Just no! I don't…I wouldn't…no! No! No! No!"

"Kye…"

"S-stop! Stop calling me by that s-stupid nickname! It's so gay! And…and you're gay! And…and no, no, everything is so wrong here! Everything is wrong…this isn't how it was supposed to be! You're not supposed to like me like Eric and Kenny! You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I am your best friend!"

"No! No you're not! J-just leave me alone from now on! Don't come near me anymore!"

With that, Kyle ran out of Stan's room leaving him with only his thoughts. But Stan figured that maybe that was all he could ask of Kyle.


	17. You Lose Your Way, I'll Leave One On

Kyle must have left in confusion; that day there was no school. Stan walked around the house cleaning, trying to get that boy off his mind. Stan was rummaging through some old drawers when he gasped. He had been so tired, so worn out and overwhelmed with Kyle and Cartman and Kenny that he completely forgot that he was meeting up with Wendy tomorrow. He closed his eyes to imagine her, but all that came to his mind's eyes was the red head with his troubled, teary eyes…

_"Don't worry about it, dude. I just want you to be okay again."_

_"In all honesty, Stan…she didn't deserve you."_

_"You're still coming over after school, loser."_

_"S-sorry.__ I forgot I was holding on. Y-you can go."_

_"I'm sad when you're sad, Stan…I can help as much as you can help worrying about me…I just care too much about you, and when I know you're confused and upset…I get the same way…so please, Stan…tell me what to do…tell me what to do to make you happy again; like you used to be."_

_"Ugh…Stan…I'm not doing this for my health…I'm doing this because I care about you. If I didn't want to help you, Stan, I wouldn't do it."_

_"Then don't hesitate, Stan. I know you, and you never have to explain yourself to me. You know I'll always care about you, and when you're confused, I am too. If you wanted me to hug you, dude, no matter how gay it is__ I'll hug you."_

_"You know, Stan…you're awesome."_

_"You're just cool in every way. I mean…if I had to choose between a life with a woman I loved, __or__ a life of abstinence with you…I'd definitely choose you."_

_"Cartman is hardly a sir. He is a monster at the most dignified, so please, Sir Marsh, don't be foolish. As I have no attachment to our acquaintance Kenneth, I would not wish to extract anything from him. So I suppose, if put in the situation, I would choose to play lover to you."_

"Stanley!"

Stan jumped when he heard his mother's voice.

"Yeah, Mom?"

She entered the room; "Is everything okay?"

"Mom…I'm meeting up with Wendy after school tomorrow."

It looked like she was trying to smile, but was not successful. She sighed and led Stan to his bed. They sat down and Stan stared at her as she sighed and told him softly, "You know I don't like that girl. She's just not right for you."

Stan didn't hate his mother. Not at all, but his emotions had been so pent up these last few weeks, they had been so secret and confusing and infuriating. His eyes grew wet, his throat felt hot as he nearly snarled, "Then who is, Mom!?"

His mother looked to him, immensely taken aback. He started crying, his hands balled into fists against his knees. He snapped, "No one, Mom. There's no one out there for me, not Wendy, not…there's just no one, so why not? Why not go with her if she really feels that strongly? There's no one else, Mom, there's no one who's going to be right for me…"

His mother wrapped her arm around his back and muttered, "Darling…that's not true…"

"Mom…I'm so confused…"

His mother's eyes softened and she uttered softly, "Honey…I know it may seem like there's nothing out there now, but one day, whether it be tomorrow or twenty years from now, there will be, and in that moment you'll know what to do; you'll know what you want."

He looked up to her sympathetic, wise eyes and smiled. His mother had never said anything so profound when guiding him before. It warmed his heart to hear it.

"…thanks, Mom."

She smiled and walked to the door, turning back before walking out and mumbling something to the nature of, "It's why I became a mother, honey."

He sat in his room for a long while, wiping away at the teary residue left trickling down his face. He sighed and thought of Kyle smiling, of him laughing, of him joking around…and he smiled as he fell asleep again, emotionally exhausted.

Kyle stormed in the house, running to his room he slammed his door behind him and muttered profanities. His cursing grew louder and fell again on and off, his anger confusing and unlabeled. He didn't know why he was so angry. He couldn't understand why he was so sensitive all of a sudden.

"God damn it, fuck, shit, fuck, mother-fucking, fucking shit…fuck…"

He slid down the door, his fists balled up against it as he fell to his knees. Tears fell from his tightly shut eyes, his brows knitted inwardly, so angry with himself, so angry with everything and everyone. He opened his eyes…

"W-why am I so angry, God?"

Kyle was never one to be very religious. Usually he was never bothered with it. He was very lost, though. He was so angry with even Him. So why not turn to him, seeing as he has the most power in the situation.

"God…why am I so confused? I used to be happy, then he kissed me and I got all fucked up, then I was sad and confused and then I was happy when he wanted to be my friend again and I was content for a long time until he fucked me up again! He let me kiss him and he tried to convince me that I wanted to be with him…why? Why, God? Why am I so lost? Why am I even questioning this? Why do I want to kiss him? Why do I believe him when he tells me that I want and need him? Please…please, God…"

He didn't know what to ask for. All he could do was plead for something he didn't name. It was all he was capable of in this babbling, furious state. His eyes grew wide and motionless as he felt a pressure on his shoulder. A hand he could not see was handing him a friendly gesture and Kyle felt the words spill as if it weren't him saying it, "I love him…"

The hand's pressure disappeared and Kyle turned around to see nothing but his curtains blowing in the wind from outside his window. His tears were still dripping down his shocked face. His cheeks grew pink, his eyes grew low and a loosely hung pout formed as he uttered again, "…I love him…"

He looked to the floor and smiled shyly, repeating, "I love Stan…I'm in love with him…"

He chuckled and whimpered, "…I'd really known all along…"


	18. IGNORE THIS CHAPTER

Stan sighed as his alarm clock went off. He turned over and slung his arm over the top button, shutting it off. He opened one tired eye and groaned. Today was the day. The day he forgets all about Kyle Broflovski and all the trouble he's caused. The day he opens his heart up to Wendy Testaburger once again. The day he stops smiling stupidly every time he thinks of Kyle, the day he stops having filthy dreams of Kyle, the day he stops caring too much about Kyle…today was the first day of the rest of his life.

He rose out of bed, gliding past his drawers and open door, into the bathroom down the hall. Today was the day. The blessed day that would conclude all of his confusing emotions; the day that his existence did not center around Kyle Broflovski's happiness. As he gallantly trotted into the shower he was overwhelmed with pride for his newfound resolve. Nothing would get in the way of him and his Wendy again. When he thought of Wendy, though, that boy…that stupid boy came to mind. No, Stan scolded himself, no he was done with that nonsense. He washed his hair and laughed bitterly when he felt his emo-flip; remembering Kyle's small jokes.

He left the stall and dressed in his room. He wore a red turtle neck sweater that hugged his entire torso, nearly outlining each and every athletically chiseled muscle. It folded a little as his hips, showing a little heavy on his shoulders. It met with the rim of his somewhat tight, dark blue, ripped jeans. They hugged his bottom and thighs then fanned out a little in a bell-bottoms fashion. They were torn and tattered at the bottoms which met his ankles, but the battered look to it fit in with the rips in other places. That lowered down onto his high-top converse shoes with red-black-white plaid designs. He dried his hair and stared at himself in the mirror of his room. He stared for a long while, he thought he may be glaring.

He did not know where his smile had gone, but he was glad it wasn't there. He didn't want to see it right now. He didn't know why. He just gazed at himself. There was no silken hair misplaced, there was no missing glint in his eye, there was no crease or spot of dirt on him. He was glowing with perfection. His somewhat pale features were illuminating and his serious expression was radiating in his eyes. He stared trying to imagine himself meeting Wendy, her not having to say a word of her love for him. He would just take her in his arms and kiss her all the while. He wouldn't think of Kyle, he wouldn't replace the image of her with him and he certainly wouldn't prefer Kyle over Wendy. He was done with confusion and dread and stupidity. He was done with uncertainty and wavering, he was finished with daydreams and repetitive thoughts of Kyle. He was finished and that should make him smile. But it didn't.

He closed his eyes and tried to paint the picture of Wendy kissing him in his mind. He stopped when he realized that it was unsettling his stomach; and not in the good way it used to. It made him sickish to think of her romantically. It brought back that wavering and uncertainty he had just so rightfully sent his declination. His eyes began to wet with tears again, but to calm the frustrated beat of his heart he imagined Kyle. He was standing before Kyle out in the snow and everyone they've ever known was there, watching in a grand circle around them. Kyle looked innocent and cutely confused as he always did when Stan got too close. Stan was about chest to chest with him, looking down on the red head whom had removed his Ushanka.

Stan smiled as he leaned in a little closer, bringing his hands up to the sides of Kyle's jaw. The tips of his fingers dug into the tight, silky curls and gently gripped Kyle, ensuring that he wouldn't try to escape. He was pleased to find that Kyle showed no intention of trying to leave. Stan's face grew closer Kyle's as he brought himself further down, pulling Kyle to his. Their eyes were low and although Kyle's eyes shined with confusion and something akin to fear he did not stop Stan from pressing their lips together. Kyle's hands slowly brought their way up to Stan's neck; fitting his thumb before Stan's ear and setting his fingers into Stan's hair. The cold winter air was whipping around them, but with all of the people that ever mattered to them looked unto them, they didn't feel cold at all.

Stan opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror again. He sighed a shaky sigh and shook away all of those far-fetched expectations as he rose and left the room. He was walking out the door, headed to the bus as he muttered to himself, "Today's the day."

The day to forget Kyle. The day to accept Wendy. The day welcome Ms. Testaburger and no one else, the day to retrieve tender care from the Juliet of his dreams, the day to love Wendy and only Wendy. The day to leave Kyle behind. The day to leave it all behind.

* * *

Kyle sighed as he heard his brother wake screaming at three in the morning. Kyle knew he wouldn't fall back asleep so he rose out of bed and sat at the foot. His bloody curls fell over his forehead and hung in front of his eyes. They were loose and tired as were the strings in his heart. He had come running home last morning only to find some greater power forcing him to realize he was in love with his best friend. He looked to his bureau across the room to the outfit he had set out for himself last night. It was a dark green sweater-vest with a printed symbol "SPHS" on it; translating into "South Park High School". The sweater-vest of which the hems were light orange fitted him tightly, as did the collared light orange shirt that went beneath it. He wore taut tan pants and dark green-black converse. He hated the high-tops, though, so he never bought any.

The outfit reminded him of being far away. That outfit was only an addition to the list of things that would hopefully get him a scholarship. He had to look official and responsible and straight with a wonderful sense of fashion. That is much harder than one would imagine, so he convinced himself that his mother picked it out for him, though his mother had no color-coordination skills whatsoever. He sighed. Being far away was scary. He thought of Stanley Marsh; that always calmed his racing thoughts and worries. Remembering all the times Stanley laughed and smiled and joked and ran and sweat. It was all enough to make Kyle happy; to just know Stanley was there and alive.

_"I want her back…"_

Stan's voice echoed in the caves of Kyle's mind. He knew it always would. His voice provided him a beautiful symphony of sounds and images. He wanted to cry, though. He did not want Kyle. He wanted Wendy and that was all Kyle knew to be real in the world. Kyle envied Wendy, he knew it was true only to himself. He would never admit it to another soul. Never. Not even Stanley Marsh. That shocked him the most. Day after day, bus ride after bus ride, sleep-over after sleep-over he had slowly fallen in love with him. Each moment passing he had loved him more deeply and more deeply yet, moments passing even then told him that the clock was not counting minutes, but counting the infinite moments of profound, tender emotion which was conclusively the product of one boy's existence. What was shocking was not how strongly he felt for Stan, but the fact that he felt so strongly and would never tell him. That his heart bled for him, but he would never speak a word of it, so scared of the rejection of society, of his mother, of his father, of his brother and worst of all…the rejection of Stan. Today was the day, Kyle reminded himself. Today was the day that Stan was getting back together with Wendy.

It was going to be a glorious day for Stan, one to be remembered. Kyle shut his eyes, trying to hinder the tears that begged to fall down his face. His fists were balled against his knees in aggravated sadness. He couldn't stop that. He couldn't take Stan for himself. He couldn't take Stan away from Wendy, he couldn't take Stan's pride and joy from him…it wasn't his place. He gasped as his eyes opened, the tears finally falling. Wasn't his place? No. It wasn't his place to love. It wasn't his place to love Stan. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He rose out of bed and showered and dressed. He cared privately for each curl, ensuring that he would look dashing and breath-taking all this coming afternoon. He was walking out the door. Thinking only of how fathomlessly he was in love, and how he would never speak of it.

As he walked the necklace with the star of David that he had wrapped around his forearm dangled quietly. His other wrist held a Livestrong bracelet; the yellow one, Kyle was a sucker for originals. Kyle was only a few feet away from the bus stop when he saw Stan standing a few feet away from the sign. Their eyes met just as the wind went by, lifting Kyle's silky curls and convincing Stan that the blush across Kyle's face was due to the cold weather. Today was the day.


	19. For You

Stan sighed as his alarm clock went off. He turned over and slung his arm over the top button, shutting it off. He opened one tired eye and groaned. Today was the day. The day he forgets all about Kyle Broflovski and all the trouble he's caused. The day he opens his heart up to Wendy Testaburger once again. The day he stops smiling stupidly every time he thinks of Kyle, the day he stops having filthy dreams of Kyle, the day he stops caring too much about Kyle…today was the first day of the rest of his life.

He rose out of bed, gliding past his drawers and open door, into the bathroom down the hall. Today was the day. The blessed day that would conclude all of his confusing emotions; the day that his existence did not center around Kyle Broflovski's happiness. As he gallantly trotted into the shower he was overwhelmed with pride for his newfound resolve. Nothing would get in the way of him and his Wendy again. When he thought of Wendy, though, that boy…that stupid boy came to mind. No, Stan scolded himself, no he was done with that nonsense. He washed his hair and laughed bitterly when he felt his emo-flip; remembering Kyle's small jokes.

He left the stall and dressed in his room. He wore a red turtle neck sweater that hugged his entire torso, nearly outlining each and every athletically chiseled muscle. It folded a little as his hips, showing a little heavy on his shoulders. It met with the rim of his somewhat tight, dark blue, ripped jeans. They hugged his bottom and thighs then fanned out a little in a bell-bottoms fashion. They were torn and tattered at the bottoms which met his ankles, but the battered look to it fit in with the rips in other places. That lowered down onto his high-top converse shoes with red-black-white plaid designs. He dried his hair and stared at himself in the mirror of his room. He stared for a long while, he thought he may be glaring.

He did not know where his smile had gone, but he was glad it wasn't there. He didn't want to see it right now. He didn't know why. He just gazed at himself. There was no silken hair misplaced, there was no missing glint in his eye, there was no crease or spot of dirt on him. He was glowing with perfection. His somewhat pale features were illuminating and his serious expression was radiating in his eyes. He stared trying to imagine himself meeting Wendy, her not having to say a word of her love for him. He would just take her in his arms and kiss her all the while. He wouldn't think of Kyle, he wouldn't replace the image of her with him and he certainly wouldn't prefer Kyle over Wendy. He was done with confusion and dread and stupidity. He was done with uncertainty and wavering, he was finished with daydreams and repetitive thoughts of Kyle. He was finished and that should make him smile. But it didn't.

He closed his eyes and tried to paint the picture of Wendy kissing him in his mind. He stopped when he realized that it was unsettling his stomach; and not in the good way it used to. It made him sickish to think of her romantically. It brought back that wavering and uncertainty he had just so rightfully sent his declination. His eyes began to wet with tears again, but to calm the frustrated beat of his heart he imagined Kyle. He was standing before Kyle out in the snow and everyone they've ever known was there, watching in a grand circle around them. Kyle looked innocent and cutely confused as he always did when Stan got too close. Stan was about chest to chest with him, looking down on the red head whom had removed his Ushanka.

Stan smiled as he leaned in a little closer, bringing his hands up to the sides of Kyle's jaw. The tips of his fingers dug into the tight, silky curls and gently gripped Kyle, ensuring that he wouldn't try to escape. He was pleased to find that Kyle showed no intention of trying to leave. Stan's face grew closer Kyle's as he brought himself further down, pulling Kyle to his. Their eyes were low and although Kyle's eyes shined with confusion and something akin to fear he did not stop Stan from pressing their lips together. Kyle's hands slowly brought their way up to Stan's neck; fitting his thumb before Stan's ear and setting his fingers into Stan's hair. The cold winter air was whipping around them, but with all of the people that ever mattered to them looked unto them, they didn't feel cold at all.

Stan opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror again. He sighed a shaky sigh and shook away all of those far-fetched expectations as he rose and left the room. He was walking out the door, headed to the bus as he muttered to himself, "Today's the day."

The day to forget Kyle. The day to accept Wendy. The day welcome Ms. Testaburger and no one else, the day to retrieve tender care from the Juliet of his dreams, the day to love Wendy and only Wendy. The day to leave Kyle behind. The day to leave it all behind.

* * *

Kyle sighed as he heard his brother wake screaming at three in the morning. Kyle knew he wouldn't fall back asleep so he rose out of bed and sat at the foot. His bloody curls fell over his forehead and hung in front of his eyes. They were loose and tired as were the strings in his heart. He had come running home last morning only to find some greater power forcing him to realize he was in love with his best friend. He looked to his bureau across the room to the outfit he had set out for himself last night. It was a dark green sweater-vest with a printed symbol "SPHS" on it; translating into "South Park High School". The sweater-vest of which the hems were light orange fitted him tightly, as did the collared light orange shirt that went beneath it. He wore taut tan pants and dark green-black converse. He hated the high-tops, though, so he never bought any.

The outfit reminded him of being far away. That outfit was only an addition to the list of things that would hopefully get him a scholarship. He had to look official and responsible and straight with a wonderful sense of fashion. That is much harder than one would imagine, so he convinced himself that his mother picked it out for him, though his mother had no color-coordination skills whatsoever. He sighed. Being far away was scary. He thought of Stanley Marsh; that always calmed his racing thoughts and worries. Remembering all the times Stanley laughed and smiled and joked and ran and sweat. It was all enough to make Kyle happy; to just know Stanley was there and alive.

_"I want her back…"_

Stan's voice echoed in the caves of Kyle's mind. He knew it always would. His voice provided him a beautiful symphony of sounds and images. He wanted to cry, though. He did not want Kyle. He wanted Wendy and that was all Kyle knew to be real in the world. Kyle envied Wendy, he knew it was true only to himself. He would never admit it to another soul. Never. Not even Stanley Marsh. That shocked him the most. Day after day, bus ride after bus ride, sleep-over after sleep-over he had slowly fallen in love with him. Each moment passing he had loved him more deeply and more deeply yet, moments passing even then told him that the clock was not counting minutes, but counting the infinite moments of profound, tender emotion which was conclusively the product of one boy's existence. What was shocking was not how strongly he felt for Stan, but the fact that he felt so strongly and would never tell him. That his heart bled for him, but he would never speak a word of it, so scared of the rejection of society, of his mother, of his father, of his brother and worst of all…the rejection of Stan. Today was the day, Kyle reminded himself. Today was the day that Stan was getting back together with Wendy.

It was going to be a glorious day for Stan, one to be remembered. Kyle shut his eyes, trying to hinder the tears that begged to fall down his face. His fists were balled against his knees in aggravated sadness. He couldn't stop that. He couldn't take Stan for himself. He couldn't take Stan away from Wendy, he couldn't take Stan's pride and joy from him…it wasn't his place. He gasped as his eyes opened, the tears finally falling. Wasn't his place? No. It wasn't his place to love. It wasn't his place to love Stan. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He rose out of bed and showered and dressed. He cared privately for each curl, ensuring that he would look dashing and breath-taking all this coming afternoon. He was walking out the door. Thinking only of how fathomlessly he was in love, and how he would never speak of it.

As he walked the necklace with the star of David that he had wrapped around his forearm dangled quietly. His other wrist held a Livestrong bracelet; the yellow one, Kyle was a sucker for originals. Kyle was only a few feet away from the bus stop when he saw Stan standing a few feet away from the sign. Their eyes met just as the wind went by, lifting Kyle's silky curls and convincing Stan that the blush across Kyle's face was due to the cold weather. Today was the day.


	20. Cause This I Know, There's A Place We

The bus ride was awkward and silent. They did not sit near each other and Kyle was surprised with the fact that Ms. Wendy Testaburger did not occupy the bus that day. Kyle would glance to Stan every now and again and study him. He smiled as he gazed at Stan's furrowed brow, his concentrated glare out the window, his tensed muscles. Kyle realized this was the first time he was looking at Stanley Marsh while completely aware that he was in love with him. Kyle was glad that Stan looked so good that day, that Stan looked even more handsome than usual. Kyle made fun of it a lot, but he really did love Stan's emo-flip, and as he studied Stan, he noted Stan's high-tops. His brain snorted in repulse. He hated high-tops.

Stan glared out the window. He was positive he could feel Kyle's emerald eyes on him, but he was too proud to turn around. He was trying to convince himself that he was being paranoid as the bus came to its third stop. His brows were knit inwardly in frustration, he could hardly stand not turning and looking at Kyle. When he had spotted Kyle coming towards the bus stop he looked so good, so silky and smooth. Not that he usually looked anything but…completely mesmerizing, but today was different. It was almost as if Kyle deliberately forced every pore, crease and hair to perform perfection on this very day. This very day that Stan was trying to put him out of his mind. This very day…ugh, he wouldn't waste time thinking about it.

Cartman had loaded on the bus and sat down next to Kyle, contently capturing Kyle's attention. Kyle was not one to ignore someone or treat them unequally, so he seemed reluctantly consumed by Cartman's ranting. The bus eventually came to its conclusion at the school and the children emptied from the vehicle. Kyle accidently interrupted Cartman's ranting and asked softly, "Hey, did Kenny die?"

"Yeah, he was killed two nights ago." Cartman stated aloofly

"Oh. He thought he'd die by the end of the week."

"Yeah," Cartman began, "he got hit by a—"

Cartman stopped speaking as Kyle bumped into Stan near the exit of the bus. Kyle backed away a little; only being caught by Cartman's plush shoulder. His curls bounced, tossing around his alluring scent. Stan fell back a little, only just catching himself against the railing. They looked to each other, about to apologize, but once they realized who each other were, they went silent. They stared blankly at each other, unable to form words.

"I-" Kyle began, but Stan immediately walked off the bus and left Kyle in silence.

Cartman looked to him and asked, "What happened between you guys?"

_I realized I'm in love with him. He realized how much he hates me._

"Nothing. We had a small argument."

Cartman seemed to store away the rest of his questions as Kyle led them both off the bus. Kyle walked slowly to his locker, then to class; the only thing on his mind being his profound love for his best friend.

Stan sat in Global History. He was dreading his lunch period which was fast approaching. He didn't want to see Kyle. He didn't want to hear Kyle's voice. He didn't want to suffer anymore. Every time he saw Kyle Broflovski he was only reminded of the love he could never have. Kyle had even made it quite clear the he would not hand over his heart to him. That was all Stan needed to be torn apart. That was all he needed to be broken. So now he will give his broken pieces to Wendy Testaburger, and hope and pray that she will have the ability to put the pieces back together. He will hope and pray, but he knew she couldn't. He knew that there was only one person in the world who could repair him, but he never would.

The class passed and he decided to leave for lunch. He wasn't supposed to go out, but he knew how to get by teachers, so he didn't worry.

Kyle had been hoping that Stan wouldn't show up. Kyle knew he didn't have the guts to go out for lunch of his own accord, so he hoped the brave Stanley Marsh would ignore his existence and leave the building. He was half glad and half disappointed when he walked into the cafeteria to find that Stan wasn't there. He sighed as he sat beside Cartman as he did every day.

"Are you okay?" Cartman asked as Kenny sat down across from them

"Is Stan in today?" Wendy's voice came across their table

At the mention of his name Kyle's face reacted and warped into a troubled or injured expression. His hands crawled up against each other against his chest as he muttered in scratchy whisper, "Yes…yes he's in, I have to go…"

Cartman stopped him by grabbing his wrist. It reminded Kyle of Stan.

"Kyle…are you really okay?"

Kyle was so broken without Stan…in that moment he felt his heart tearing in two. Telling him all of the secrets about himself he didn't want to know, calling him a liar and reciting all of the twisted metaphors and emotions fuming up inside him. His mind was crawling with insects of bad dreams and sadistic control over people and their emotions. He wished he could manipulate Wendy so that she would no longer be interested in Stan, manipulate Stan so that he would need Kyle and only Kyle…manipulate Cartman to love Kenny, Kenny to love Cartman. He wished he could run or fly or rip or tear or scream. He wanted to cry and throw the tables over onto the unsuspecting students, strain the perfect silk curls on his head until their pulled out in fury. He wanted to crawl in the corner and glare at every single person who passed, grab at their jeans and trip them until they all lie face-down on the floor. He wanted wings to burst painfully from his spine and let him twist and turn out of the room heroically, show the world he didn't need them, that he didn't want them no matter how much they needed him. Instead he replied before running off, "Yes…I'm really fine…"

He ran off to the library, hugging his thin torso as he rested against the threshold. He snuck in, unseen. He rushed to the tragic romance genre; no one was ever there. Kyle never knew why. He never even knew why he never went there. Now he knew why. Now he knew what unrequited love feels like, now the he knew the pain and agony of love come and gone. No…this love would never leave him. He knew it wouldn't. He rested his back against the giant wooden shelves as he bit his lip to stop from crying. He bit so hard, he bled. He was surprised to find that the sharp pain of his canines carving into his flesh was pleasuring to him. It calmed him and he wondered…maybe love was like that. You searched so hard for it, carved in so deep, then once you found it, it hurt and you suffered but it was pleasurable. And as the silk, red blood began to flood him from his bottom lip, he thought that maybe…just maybe that was love too.


	21. Can Go, Where I Can Let You Know

**I'm so sorry it's been so long; I've been ****sooooo**** caught up with ****sooo**** much stuff! The next update will definitely be faster, I promise! Tell me what you think in ****reviews :D**** Thanks for being so patient everyone! Hope you like your latest chapter!**

Crying in the tragic romance? Honestly, Kyle, you couldn't be any more creative? Kyle looked out from behind his palms and covered his eyes. He had skipped his last two classes; his last class was next. Gym. He hated Gym. He liked running, but aside from badminton, tennis and track, he was pathetic in athletics. He took a deep breath in and sighed deeply. There was no need to be sad, he told himself. There was no need to feel this sharp pain of regret and sorrow. Those emotions were of no use to him now, because he had made his decision from the morning Stan was twisted around the bus seat, ogling Wendy. He had made the decision to never confess his unclean attraction to Stan. He would never admit how his heart pounded around Stan, he would never tell Stan just how much he wanted to touch him, to feel him, to hear him and be with him. His heroic gift to Stan. This was for Stan, for Stan to have his well-deserved woman, for Stan to have his happy ending, for Stan to be satisfied and trouble-free. For Stan to be rid of all confusion and discontent. For Stan to be rid of him.

He smiled, but it was hollow. He looked down to his hands and saw that he appeared to be shaking slightly.

"I've got…I've got to tell you something, Stan…I've been…if I could go back…I…I wish I could go back in time, to when you kissed me in my kitchen…and I want…I want to touch you, and love you…I love you…" He chuckled as he ended his unheard confession and added softly, "Somewhere in between the day we met and right now…some time in there…I couldn't live without you…I fell in love with you…"

He stared more strongly at his suddenly intriguing palms as he continued, "And…and I can love you…I can love you more deeply…than anyone…I can love you…more profoundly than…" He imagined Wendy in his mind's eye and he cringed at the painful sight, "…more profoundly than anyone…and if I could…I would love you…so deeply…so profoundly…"

Why, then? His brain barked; why was it that Kyle couldn't? Kyle's common sense told him his parents would have heart failure at the simple word "gay" out of his mouth. And even aside from that, his life would forever be twisted…he could never go back to who he was…

But even that…even those reasons looked trivial and tedious next to the mother of all excuses not to run after the boy he loved…

That the boy he loved had been in love—no, obsessed—with the girl he was about to win back for too long for Kyle to throw away all of his efforts to take him out of his own selfishness. No…Kyle could never…Kyle closed his eyes…all he wanted…

_All I want…is for him…to hold my hand…and…stupid, retarded stuff like that…and…I __wanna__ memorize what he feels like against me and…_ He blushed furiously as his brain added, _against me and inside me…and…and if I could have only one thing in this entire universe, forget my parents, brother, society or oxygen…all I'd want…all I want is him…that's all…is it really…is it really that much to ask for? Am I bad…for wanting that?_

He looked up and out the window across the room from him. The sun was slowly being swallowed by purple, grey, blue and black clouds; rain was approaching and the signs were glaring at him. He glared back at them as he snarled viciously, "My love for him…is more powerful than you…and no doubt, it is more powerful than me…and that…" His expression softened into a timid smile and soft fluster as he finished, "And that is the strength I will carry on with…that is the strength that will keep me going until the end while he gets his girl…"

The bell rang and he raced off to his Gym.

Stan had lunch and returned; never caught. He moved throughout the halls without meaning or purpose; looking glazed and uninterested. He looked off and out the windows in class, examining the signs of poor weather to come. He sighed; was it an omen? He was to win Wendy back this afternoon…was this some kind of sign? Some kind of sign that they weren't meant to be? That thought let his mind drift into a fairytale daydream…

_"Kyle! Kyle!" He would call cheerily _

_"Stan? I thought…__I thought you were winning Wendy back…__" Kyle would reply; his face would be flustered and as cute as the day he apologized for forgetting to let go of Stan's hand._

_"No, Kye, she can't do to me what you do to me! She can't love me like I know you can…"_

_"But I though…I though you hated me…" Kyle would tell him cutely_

_"Hate you?" He would ask in a chuckle, "I could never hate you, Kye…in fact…" His eyes would soften, "In fact…I love you…"_

_Kyle's piercing eyes would widen in flattered shock as he would stammer, "L-love?__ You love me?"_

_Stan would wrap his strong hands around either side of Kyle's soft face and sink his fingers into the milky silk curls and reply, "Yes, Kye…I love you and I want you to love me too…I want you…to love me…more than anyone…I want to mean everything to you…"_

_Kyle's eyes would fill with sensitive tears as he would tell Stan sincerely, "Oh, Stan, you already do…__I…__I love you too…"_

_Then Stan would pull Kyle close to him and kiss him passionately…_

He was snapped out of his dream.

_No. No more thinking like that…_

The bell rang for last period and he rushed off to math. People were taking tests even when he finished. Normally he was the last to finish, but this topic had somehow made it into his brain even while daydreaming of Kyle that entire quarter. He didn't smile as he walked up to her desk and placed the paper down. His teacher looked to him, concerned and asked, "Stanley…come talk to me."

She led him out the door and into the hall. The kids all knew she was sitting right by the open door, so none cheated, although some probably made stupid faces or threw pencils. Ms. Ellen looked to him and asked, "What has been going on with you?"

"What…what do you mean?"

"I may just be a teacher to you, Stanley, but I know my students like I know my own children…I can tell when something's bugging them…tell me what's been on your mind."

He sighed; "Nothing."

He watched as her eyes turned sad, but encouraging as she added, "You can confide in me, I promise. I'm wise beyond my years."

He looked to his shoes and told her, "What…what do you do when you love someone you can't love and they don't love you but you want to get them to love you while someone you used to love loves you now and wants you to love them again but you've got a new love and you don't even know when you got over your old love but it doesn't really matter, seeing as you know now who you really love and really want but it's still someone no one will want you to love and you don't even know if they return those feelings or if you do know that they don't love you cause they ran out of your room like there was hell on their heels and refused to look at you ever again cause you're a failure as a friend and a lover or love interest all together and it sickens even you to know who you love but for some reason you can't stop loving them because it feels so good…what do you do then?"

"You'd be surprised as to how much I actually followed in that…" Ms. Ellen simply told him

"…ehm…sorry…should I give a synopsis?"

"Good thinking."

He sighed, replying, "I love someone who won't love me, and someone I used to love claims to love me now…"

She smiled and told him, "What do you know about the person that loves you now?"

He sighed heavily again, "She's the most popular girl in school, she's kinda spoiled sometimes, she likes politics and smart guys and she's not grossed out by vomit."

Ms. Ellen did not press to see how he knew that last bit and asked, "Alright, now how much do you know about the person you claim to love?"

He smiled and recited, "…intelligent, loves watching movies in black and white, poetic, loves originals, hates high-top converse, obsessed with Shakespeare, writes, eh…heh, a pretty dorky dancer, wants to be stronger, loves formal-wear, pretty nice dresser, appreciates a good pick-up line—"

"Now, Stanley…I can see it…"

"See what?" He inquired curiously

"You only knew those…what?...four things about that girl and when you got to the person you think you love, you know way too much!" She chuckled

He smiled with her and muttered, "I guess you're right."

She stated aloofly, "You said in your rant that your love wants to be stronger…"

"Yeah…it's kinda of an ambition…h—they're ehm…kind of ill a lot of the time." He informed her

"They told you that?" She interrogated

"Yeah."

She smiled, turning to Stanley with a shine in her eyes, "Then they love you too."

"What?" He snorted

"Stanley…love is…love is many things, but love means that the person you love can see the weakest, worst parts of you…and it's okay…and they told you they're weak. They told you where they're weakest; they wanted you to know. That's they're way of secretly telling you they love you."

Stan blushed furiously; "How…how do you know that?"

Ms. Ellen smiled, "Because my true love did that same thing."

"But boys acted different when you were a teenager." Stan groaned

"Boys? Stanley, I hate to break it to ya, but I wasn't interested in any boys."

Stan shot her a strange look suddenly, stuttering, "W-wait…but you said you had children?!"

"Adopted."

"…you have…a girlfriend?" Stan asked awkwardly

"Had…she was shot a long while back at a pride march. I couldn't go; I had an interview at this school that day…"

Stan looked to his shoes again, "I'm…sorry."

"It was…I don't blame anyone…I feel like I can't. Stanley, sometimes it's hard to comprehend how completely stupid and ignorant the human race can be."

Stan looked to her curiously with sympathy, "What about your parents and friends…what did they think of it?"

"They didn't all approve…but Stanley…there's much more to people than their shells. I loved Anya more passionately than I had ever loved before. That is what makes someone human. Compassion and care…love. And if I could go back…I'd have done it all over again." She told him softly

He smiled, "That's…really honorable, Ms. Ellen."

She grinned back to him, "Tell me how everything works out for you, Stanley."

Stan and her stood as the bell rang for dismissal and he turned, leaving her with his last statement, "Thank you, I will."


	22. That I'm The One That Loves You Lately

**Hey, guys! Longest chapter yet, hope you guys enjoy it!**

Kyle walked to the public bus stop at the corner of his block to get to North Park. He was looking forward to getting on the glossy stage to represent his school. It would help in getting all of the bad things off his mind. He would be surrounded by intelligent, smartly dressed, straight people. It would be lovely.

As he boarded the bus he looked out the window and thought of Stan. Of his smile, of his quirky attitude, his helpful and I-can-do-anything outlook. It made him question if Stan was superman on the side. He blushed and closed his eyes.

_I-I've realized I'm in love with him…but I've…I've never had a dirty thought of him…m-maybe…that would…uhm…uh…help relieve some stress…_

His mind painted Stanley standing in his doorway…

_"Kye…"_

_He would blush at his nickname, "…Stan?"_

_Stan's eyes would be sad but sparkling with purpose, "…Kye…I need you…I can't…I can't be with Wendy…she doesn't get me like you do…"_

_"Stan…"_

_Stan would lean in and capture Kyle's lips; the kissing would grow more passionate, more needy and desperate. Breathes would be hitched and audible gasps would ensue. Shirts would be quickly removed, their kisses only breaking for the moments they had to remove them. Pants unbuttoned and hanging low, Kyle would grip and playfully pull on Stan's hair, earning smirks against his lips. Then Stan would reach up and claim Kyle's hands, slowing down their kisses but utilizing more of his tongue to dominate. He would bring Kyle's hands to his waist, where Kyle could already feel heat. The strawberry red his face was would grow darker and warmer yet as they would break their kisses for a momentary gaze. Stan would lean over to Kyle's ear and murmur as if struggling, "Kye…I need this…I need you…"_

"Gah! What am I even thinking!?" Kyle scolded himself, blushing furiously

He ended his perverse visions there as the bus came to a stop.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Stan rushed off to the library; obnoxiously pushing through crowds of people to reach the raven-haired beauty waiting just beyond a few books. When he reached the library he breathlessly and frantically looked for Wendy. He eventually spotted her waving to him with a hypnotizing smile on her face. He grinned victoriously and raced to her.

"Wendy…"

"Stan…hi."

He blushed and scratched the back of his head bashfully as he replied, "Y-yeah, Hi…uhm…why'd ya wanna see me?"

They both knew why, but Stan thought it may come off cute if he played dumb.

_"Why would you dumb yourself down for her, Stan? You're a brilliant guy…you deserve someone who's just as intelligent as you."_

Stan could almost hear Kyle's voice; it was so clear in his head. Unless…

_"Sheesh, you're such a pussy, Stan. Heh…but good for you, man. I'm glad I could help."_

He may have said that too…or…

_"What the hell, Stan?! How can you do this to me…I don't…I don't know you anymore!"_

It amazed Stan that he had known Kyle for so long but still didn't know what his initial reaction would be; what he would say or how he would act; how he was so unpredictable. Stan was also amazed with just how much it fascinated him to know everything about Kyle.

"Well…uhm…before we get to that…uhm…why don't we just talk for a while?" She requested

He smirked which filled Wendy's face with red as he told her, "Sure. How was your day?"

She smiled with red cheeks as she muttered, "Uhm…good, I suppose."

"Anything eventful?"

"Uhm…well, Bebe told me that Allan was going out with Jennifer. But Jennifer was totally mean to him during elementary and Bebe says that Allan wanted to go out with Lea. So now there's lots of drama."

He could tell she cut herself short; he knew he'd be in this torture for a long while as he asked, "…what happened?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Kyle walked down between the isles of seats, gazing at the lit stage and ruby red cushions of the chairs. He smiled with a fluster settling under his emerald eyes. His silky, shimmering curls bobbed as he floated rather than just walked down to the stage. The girl on the opposing school side ogled him with twinkling eyes as he glided onto the stage and behind his podium. He ran his hand over the glossy red button that he would be aiming and shooting his wrist at for the rest of the evening. He looked to the girl, sensing her intent gaze, but she quickly averted her eyes with a dark crimson crawling onto his features. He smiled softly, his eyes lowering into a gentle expression.

_My heart will always be with you, Stan. You've hurt me time and time again…you confused me and troubled me…probably more than what you're worth to everyone else…but I couldn't stop from falling in love with you…and I can't end it now. I'm sorry, Stan…even if you hurt me and even if you trouble me…I will love you. Your worried eyes are all I can ask for in return. But just to know that you've looked my way is enough. Just to know that you've noticed me…it is enough to keep pressing on._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Stan sighed as the evening had pressed on a half hour. He didn't mean to seem bored, but what was it that Wendy was going on about? He had collected information that meant nothing to him…

Allan was indeed, currently dating Jennifer, and Jennifer was supposedly his bully in elementary. Bebe heard from Allan's best friend, Steven, that Allan wanted to date Lea. Lea is repulsed by Allan ever since he vomited on her lunch some four years ago and she was not aware of Allan's feelings for her. Lea found out that Allan was dating her acquaintance, Jennifer and appeared angered with her when she began spreading harsh and irrational rumors. This led her friends to believe she was jealous; she never admitted this but she did begin dating Steven to upset Allan. She achieved this and she was distraught to hear that Allan gave his first kiss to Jennifer and promised to attend the prom with her at the end of their high school career. This had all been accomplished in the last half hour and frankly, Stan was kind of confused.

"Why didn't he just tell her?"

"What?" Wendy asked; taken aback that Stan had interrupted her in the middle of a sentence

"Why didn't he just tell Lea how he felt about her?"

"He's shy. It's her fault." Wendy brushed off by waving her hand as if swatting a bug

"Her fault? How? What if she was too shy to admit how she felt about him? It's both their faults!" Stan argued

"She spread rumors and dated his best friend!" Wendy snapped

"As if; Lea could never come up with those rumors on her own. Not to mention people have different ways of dealing with tragedy and if no one was willing to help her and she was unwilling to trust anyone, you guys must have given her good reason not to trust you. Thus her friends must be at fault for the rumors and setting her up with Steven, as she is too shy to ask out the boy she likes and she is far too modest to spread such rumors. To know you guys spread that sort of stuff, she probably couldn't trust anyone with her secret and that's why she's been such a bitch."

Wendy's eyes widened for a moment, then softened as she asked, "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Figure that out."

Stan blushed, "If the person I loved…would just admit to me their feelings…I know I wouldn't be so troubled."

Wendy smirked and pushed him against the table. Stan looked around frantically; there was no one around but them. He blushed furiously as she ran a thin finger down his chest and replied, "I know just how you feel, Stan."

"W-Wendy?"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Kyle was backstage peeking out the curtain at the crowds of parents and relatives filling the seats. He heard a feminine voice whisper to him, "No peeking, it's bad luck!"

He turned to see the ogling, blushing girl from earlier. He smiled to her and replied, "Oh…sorry, I'm not…uh…exactly theatrical…I'm not set on the rules, really."

She was clearly charmed by his good looks and kind, approachable nature. She stuck her small hand out and as he shook it she told him, "My name is Nadia. I'm the North Park representative."

He grinned, telling her, "I'm Kyle, I'm the South Park representative…uh…clearly."

They chuckled and were immediately "shushed" at. They lowered their volume as she asked, "Your girlfriend here to cheer you on?"

He sighed as he remembered his non-existent love-life. He told her simply, "No. I don't have a girlfriend…or a boyfriend."

She blushed furiously; Kyle had done it. He had admitted to someone that he wasn't just interested in girls. He had finally told someone…and it felt good.

"Oh…I didn't know…" She seemed frightened that she may have offended him

He told her quickly, "No, don't worry about it, really. I only realized I wanted one really, really, really recently."

She smiled, "Too bad."

He returned her smile, "Yeah. Too bad."

"South Park Representative, Kyle Broflovski" boomed from the stage

She gave him a thumbs-up and told him, "Go get 'em, tiger!"

He chuckled and jogged off into the blinding lights and applauding families.

"Kyle Broflovski!" The man in the suit chirped

"Hiya."

"Alright, well, to get to know our contestants a little better we're gonna ask some questions, you ready?" The man cheerily interviewed

"Fire away!" Kyle encouraged; it was easier to pretend he wasn't broken. It was easier to pretend he was perfectly alright. It was easier to pretend he had never known Stanley Marsh, easier to pretend he wasn't completely destroyed inside.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Wendy pulled Stan up by his turtle-neck-collar and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss timidly and didn't move his shaking hands from his sides. He couldn't keep his mind focused on the fairy princess before him…he was too distracted…

_"In all honesty, Stan…she didn't deserve you."_

_"No…don't thank me for telling you that. It's not a compliment. I want you to know that…you're way, way too good for her, dude. So don't think about it anymore."_

_"I'm sad…__cause__ you are, Stan."_

_"I'm sad when you're sad, Stan…I can help as much as you can help worrying about me…I just care too much about you, and when I know you're confused and upset…I get the same way…so please, Stan…tell me what to do…tell me what to do to make you happy again; like you used to be."_

_"I'm not an ass-hat, uncle-fucker, and you're such a liar! The only girl you care about seeing your hair-care is Wendy I-EAT-TESTACLES!"_

_"Ugh…Stan…I'm not doing this for my health…I'm doing this because I care about you. If I didn't want to help you, Stan, I wouldn't do it."_

_"Then don't hesitate, Stan. I know you, and you never have to explain yourself to me. You know I'll always care about you, and when you're confused, I am too. If you wanted me to hug you, dude, no matter how gay it is__ I'll hug you."_

_"You're just cool in every way. I mean…if I had to choose between a life with a woman I loved, __or__ a life of abstinence with you…I'd definitely choose you."_

_"Cartman is hardly a sir. He is a monster at the most dignified, so please, Sir Marsh, don't be foolish. As I have no attachment to our acquaintance Kenneth, I would not wish to extract anything from him. So I suppose, if put in the situation, I would choose to play lover to you."_

"Stan…?" Wendy's voice broke through

_"Halt in your pursuit immediately, Sir! I have made no such declarations in which I have __seeked__ being found to enjoy others as myself!"_

_"I'm sorry, Eric…it just…hurts when I try to replace them."_

_"…yes…I'm fine. But…just…forget about last night, please…"_

_"No! No you're not! J-just leave me alone from now on! Don't come near me anymore!"_

"…Wendy…" Stan finally muttered in return

_"You know I don't like that girl. She's just not right for you."_

_"Honey…I know it may seem like there's nothing out there now, but one day, whether it be tomorrow or twenty years from now, there will be, and in that moment you'll know what to do; you'll know what you want."_

"Tell me you're still in love with me." She murmured in his ear

Stan opened his eyes, blushing furiously as he told her, "I-I'm sorry…I can't, Wendy…"

"Why?" She nearly wept

He felt sorry, but told her honestly with a smile on his face, "Because I'm already in love…I'm sorry, Wendy, but I know what I want…"

She called after him as he ran off and out of the library.

_Kyle…Kyle, wait for me…I'm gonna win you…I'm gonna get you in the end…and I'm gonna love you more strongly than you'll be able to handle…I love you, you fuckin' Jew…and I'm gonna prove it to you…_

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Alright, now that everyone knows our contestants, let us begin our competition!" The host suggested

The crowd clapped and whistled; Nadia and Kyle exchanging glances and smirks as they told each other through their eyes that they had lied through their entire interview.

"Alright, if eight-x plus fourteen equals negative forty, what is x?"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_How is it? How __is it__ the Wendy kisses me and all I can think of is that fucking Jew!? Just hold on, Kyle…I'm a block away from you and I'm gonna humiliate you…__haha__, but don't worry…I'm only doing this because I love you…I love you…I love you and I can't say it enough…I need you, Kye…you're going to love me…you're going to love me._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"And North Park gets the first point!" The man cheered

"Fuedal Japan had was ruled by an Emperor, but the true power lie within…"

Kyle hit the red button on his podium as the man called out, "South Park!"

"What is the Shogun?"

"Correct! South Park gets the second point!" The man grinned as he flipped to a new index card and continued, "Now we're moving into literature…"

**"KYLE!"**

Kyle, Nadia and the rest of South Park, minus Wendy Testaburger turned around to see Stan running down the red, carpeted isle toward the stage. Kyle walked to the middle of the stage where Stan stood huffing and gasping for air.

"Dude, what are you doing here?! You've got to meet Wendy in the library! She's waiting for you, I told her you'd be there!" Kyle objected

"Shut…up…Kye…" Stan breathed

Kyle was taken aback as Stan continued, "I already… saw her…"

"…so you're back together?"

Stan cocked a brow as he looked up to Kyle from beneath his emo-flip. "Will you let me finish?"

Kyle shut his mouth as Stan continued, "Kye…I saw her…and she kissed me…and she didn't want me to leave when I did and she wanted me to tell her I loved her."

There was a short silence, then Kyle asked, "…so did you?"

"No, I didn't…"

"Why not?!"

"Cause I'm already in love…" Stan stated strongly as he reached his arm out and pulled Kyle closer to him by his forearm.

Their lips were not an inch apart as he told him, "Cause I'm already in love with you."

Stan was about to lean in and fully capture Kyle's thick, pouted lips when Kyle budged away without taking his arm out of Stan's hold. Kyle told him simply, "Not very original…"

"What?" Stan begged

"You got that line from that old vampire movie…"

Stan glared but smiled challengingly. He replied, "So tell me something average."

Kyle looked around at all the shocked faces; avoiding his mother's eyes then to the ground. He looked to Stan's feet, then back to his ocean eyes and stated, "I hate your high-tops."

But in that moment, before Stan could even comprehend anything Kyle had said, Kyle's lips were his. Their hands traveled through hair and along necks under the warming stage lights. Here they were; an open book for the world to read. Standing before everyone they had ever known, under the spotlight. And in moments they would be yelled at for disrupting the competition, for making out in front of everyone, for being gay or in love or whatever…but it didn't matter to either of them as the clung to the moment and only knew each other's lips. Kyle broke away with a gasp; the clapping of the majority of the audience wasn't even coherent until after he told Stan, "I love you too."

**End**

**AN: ****Haha****, sorry I didn't give a lot of warning, I just didn't want to spoil that it was the ****end :**

**Hope you all enjoyed it, please leave reviews or send PMs! Thanks for all the support! It was loads of fun! **


End file.
